Dancing in the Dark Moonlight
by PureJasmineBlossom
Summary: This is a story of broken friendships and how the pieces can be repaired. That is, if the right windows are open at the right times. However, this is not a happy story, for this story is not just about friendships, but is also about war, and war itself is never really happy. But at the same time, it's a fact that happy things can occur in war's midst. Jily, langage, Roe
1. Prologue

_**A/N: **__Marauders, the world of Harry Potter, and etc do not belong to me. This is for fun, not for profit._

_Anyway, it's me again, with a new Marauder's Era story. As much as I enjoyed writing "Opportunities", it was not what it could have been. As I began uploading it, I found it lacking in a few areas (you know, minor areas, like plot and realism). Editing it would have been intense, and I'm quite lazy, you see. So instead, I began a re-write of sorts. When that didn't satisfy me, I tried another completely different re-write. Then I suddenly decided to mash all three stories together. But I digress (that tends to happen, you've been warned). If you've read that first fic (no longer on this site), you will recognize some of the OCs and maybe some plot points (not really anything big, just background). However, this will not be the same story. I've been trying to make it less typical teen drama and more inclusive of the war. A word about the OCs – I have spent countless hours working on them and subjecting them to litmus test after litmus test. I hate Mary Sues/Gary Stus and I take every precaution (of which I am aware) to make sure that they don't appear in my stories. If one has slipped in anyway… well… let me know in the gentlest way possible (I have yet to develop the thick skin required of a writer)._

_Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed planning and writing it! Without further ado…_

* * *

Prologue  
Or, A Very Bad Afternoon For Everyone

It all started out as a nice enough day. Sure, the students in question had just sat through a long and difficult written exam about a fairly difficult class, but for those students involved in these dramatics, the day wasn't really so terrible just yet. For most of them, the exam really hadn't been so horrific. But, as everyone knows, the quality of a day is much like the weather at the top of a mountain – it can change rapidly and drastically.

"LEAVE HIM ALONE!"  
"Ah, Evans, don't make me hex you."

This really was a terrible day. Some of those involved just hadn't realized that yet.

"You're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus – "  
"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"

Some had already realized this, however.

"I won't bother in the future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, _Snivellus_."  
"Apologize to Evans!"

Others were just starting to realize it.

"Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down the corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can – I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK."  
"Evans! Hey, EVANS!"

But eventually they all did realize that it was indeed, a bad day.

"Get to the Hospital Wing, you're a mess."  
"Stop giving me orders."

It was a bad day indeed.

But we're getting ahead of ourselves. Let's start over. Not at the beginning – that will come in its own time. But let's provide the context for this scene.

Have you ever thought you'd lost a friend? Ever get in a row with them so bad that the two of you didn't speak for days, weeks, months, or worse… years?

Of course you have. Everyone does.

But if you haven't, then you're either incredibly lucky, or it just hasn't happened yet.

This is that story.

This is a story of broken friendships and how the pieces can be picked up. That is, if the right windows are open at the right time. But at the same time, this old narrator feels he must warn you that it is not a _happy_ story. For this story is not just about friendship, but also about war. War itself is never really happy, but at the same time, happy things can occur in the midst of one. So maybe, in a sense, it is a happy story. But that is neither here nor there.

1976 was shattering – a year of changes and developments. Spring was easing into summer on a haze of breezy mornings and lazy afternoons.

It was June of '76 and Sarah Zachary was walking out of a castle in Northern Scotland. The sun was shining high in the sky and there wasn't a cloud in sight. The day wasn't yet too hot, or too cool. The breeze was comforting, but not strong enough to be annoying. Basically, it was as perfect a day as you could imagine. All over the grounds, students sat enjoying the weather. Some were just lounging, some playing games. And some were studying frantically.

Sarah would be in that latter category as soon as she got to her destination.

You see; Sarah was at a rather important time in her academic career. She was in the midst of a series of examinations that would determine what she was qualified to do for the rest of her life.

If this sounds stressful, then it's not being explained well enough. After all, "stressful" is not a strong enough word for what the 15 year-old was feeling these days.

Now, Sarah Angela Zachary is not one for nerves. She is not what you might call "high strung". She does not fret unnecessarily. Normally, Ms. Sarah Zachary is a laid back, fun loving individual. So, the fact that her nails were bitten as far as they could go (and in a few cases beyond that), the fact that she had large dark bags under her eyes, and the fact that she always looked incredibly harassed ought to say something about these exams.

So it was really no surprise that as she passed a particular Beech tree, she narrowed her eyes into a deathly glare.

James Potter and Sirius Black had never looked so well rested.

Sarah wanted to violently strike them. But then, that was not actually a surprise at all. The average-height witch with espresso brown hair, olive skin, and flashing blue-grey eyes was a bit rash and could sometimes turn violent with her temper. Not frequently, but every so often, it would happen. However, instead of lashing out at the offensive pair, she continued on her way to a group of girls sitting by the lake, a few of whom were dipping their feet into the cool water. Unlike the pair of well-rested boys, these girls (for the most part) mirrored Sarah's appearance. While only three of them held open books or notes, all but one sported similar bags under her eyes and a few shared Sarah's bitten nails. _These_ were Sarah's friends. Or at least, they had been for the past few months.

There was the red haired and green-eyed Lily Evans, whose feet were lightly splashing the surface of the lake. There was a book open in her lap, but by all appearances, she hadn't actually looked at it in several minutes. There was the brown haired, brown-eyed Mary Macdonald who didn't even bother with the appearance of a book and was just staring out over the lake in which her feet also splashed. Next to her sat the blonde-haired and blue-eyed Marlene McKinnon who kept trying to get Mary to quiz her to no avail. Then, there was the raven-haired, blue-eyed Emmeline Vance who had her fingers in her ears, her feet in the lake, and was staring intently at a long sheet of parchment. Next to her, and constantly trying to get her to stop being so anti-social, was Dorcas Meadowes. Normally, Dorcas was a blonde haired girl with green eyes, but sometimes she experimented with Transfiguration above her level. At that moment, her hair was a light shade of purple, though she would change it back as soon as she had to re-enter the castle walls. And last, but not least, was a curly-haired brunette with hazel eyes, Alice Gordon, who was not actually in the girls' year, but was keeping them company and offering moral support during this time of their exams.

"Blimey Sarah, you look like you could kill a Mountain troll,"  
"With your bare hands,"

Quipped Lily Evans and Dorcas Meadowes respectively.

Sarah dropped her bag violently to the ground. "What right do those two have to look so fucking relaxed right now?"  
"Black and Potter, eh?" asked Alice.  
"Ugh, do they take _anything_ seriously?" asked Sarah as she kicked off her shoes and sat beside the other girls.  
The redhead, Lily, gave a light sniff. "Doubt it."  
"Socks, you should know the answer to that better than anyone!" laughed Dorcas. "At one time, you were practically attached to the hip with them!"  
"At one time!" snapped Sarah. "Merlin, will you just _look_ at them?" She nodded towards the tree as she fumbled with a heavy book in her bag.

James Potter truthfully didn't take much of anything seriously. Yet.

James Potter was a fairly (though not excessively) attractive, quick-witted, and charming young man of 16.

The problem was: he knew all of that.

James Potter was lounging lazily under the Beech tree with his three closest friends: a dashingly handsome teen with dark hair and grey eyes by the name of Sirius Black, an already haggard young man with light brown hair and amber eyes by the name of Remus Lupin, and an easily excitable youth with dark blonde hair and blue eyes by the name of Peter Pettigrew. At this precise moment, James Potter's hand was darting through the air, snatching a small golden orb from its path.

The small, easily excitable boy gave an enthusiastic clap with a round of giggles.

"Pettigrew looks like he's having some sort of wet dream over there," said Dorcas.  
"Pleasant as always, Doe," said Alice.  
"Where'd he get the Snitch?" asked Marlene McKinnon.  
"It's _Potter_, must you ask?" Sarah rolled her eyes. "Must have nicked it from the Quidditch supply room at some point."

Dark haired, hazel eyed, spectacled James Potter wasn't one for rules. If quizzed, he might have claimed to have only one for himself – have fun and live life to the fullest. Which is why he ignored most other rules set out by other people or establishments. Which is why he seemed perfectly at ease with a stolen object. After all, it wasn't like he'd be _keeping_ it. In his eyes, putting it back was as if it had never left – no harm, no foul.

'No harm, no foul' was probably his motto. If he had one, that is.

Lily made a face. "He doesn't even play Seeker!"  
"No, but tossing a Quaffle through the air and then catching it isn't _nearly_ as impressive as playing with a Snitch," pointed out Sarah as she opened the book sitting in her lap.  
"You should go over there and show him how it's done, Socks," joked Dorcas as she playfully bumped the brunette with their shoulders.  
"I would, if it weren't for the fact that I can't _stand_ him or Black and we still have our practical examination this evening."  
"Defence Against the Dark Arts, it'll be a piece of cake!" Dorcas dismissed.  
"Then what about Transfiguration tomorrow?" Sarah asked her friend.  
Dorcas rolled her eyes. "Please. If the two of us don't get 'Outstandings' tomorrow, then it's because we're dead. No, hold on, we could probably show up tomorrow dead and _still_ wipe the floor with the rest of the class," she laughed.

Despite the hyperbole, Dorcas' statement did hold a seed of truth. Dorcas Meadowes and Sarah Zachary shared a common strength in Transfiguration that was only matched (and possibly surpassed) by the aforementioned Potter and Black. As has been already pointed out, Doe liked to show off by transfiguring her hair different colours, but only when they weren't in class (since it wasn't exactly part of the "proper dress code" laid out by the school). Sometimes, Sarah would join in with her, but preferred to use her skills in other ways.

"If Potter looks over here one more time, he'll be sorry," grumbled Lily.  
Sarah looked up from her book. "If he rumples his hair one more time, I'll jinx it off of him."

Sarah had been planning on getting some studying done. However, when those four boys were around, plans often became worthless – something she really should have anticipated. It was funny, what a few months of animosity could do to one's memory. She seemed to completely forget what the boys were like in her attempt to forget that she had, until recently, been very good friends with them for several years.

However, there passed an entire ten minutes of calm in which Sarah thought she _just might_ get to study for a bit. For those ten minutes, everything was just right. The only sounds were the wind dancing through the freshly grown leaves of trees nearby and small splashing sounds from the lake. The giant squid was as active as ever thanks to the mild weather. The water itself wasn't terribly warm, but it was a far cry from what it was only weeks earlier. Students rarely, if ever, did more than dip their feet into it. Mostly it was because of the temperature, but the creatures that swam the depths added an additional incentive to stay out. An occasional laugh from any one of the groups of people on the grounds floated by, but was never distracting. For those ten minutes, the environment was perfect for Sarah to study by the lake, surrounded by her friends.

But then, the ten minutes were over.

"Who's that they've got over there?" asked Dorcas.

Sarah looked up from her book to see that a ruckus had erupted several feet from the aforementioned Beech tree. James Potter and Sirius Black were no longer lounging at ease. Remus Lupin appeared to be reading a book, pretending he wasn't outside at all. Peter Pettigrew was watching the scene with a look of awe and amusement on his face.

"Is that… is that _Snape_?" asked Alice.  
"Oh Merlin, what now?" groaned Lily as she quickly got to her feet.

It was no secret that Severus Snape and two leaders of the Gryffindor gang disliked each other. In fact, they absolutely _loathed_ one another. It was unknown to many whether or not the school had ever seen pair who disliked each other as strongly as Snape and Potter.

As the scene unfolded, it became very apparent just how much hatred floated between the individuals as insults were spat, spells were used, and more. Adding fuel to the fire was the fact that Snape was highly disliked by almost the entire school. The laughs and cheers from the crowd attracted by the scene only served to egg on Potter and Black. Not that they really needed the incentive; the crowd could have been booing the pair and they may have kept going. It is questionable, however, if they would have taken it as far as they did.

But that, as it has already been stated, is neither here nor there.

Lily Evans hurried over to the scene from the lake, her eyes narrowed dangerously. Sarah, Dorcas, and Marlene all followed quickly. Lily held a hand out to keep them back, which Marlene and Dorcas half-obeyed. Her reasoning was clear: the scene didn't need any more people, cheerleaders or not. Sarah, on the other hand, didn't care and kept right on Lily's heels.

As the two girls approached the scene, pink soap bubbles had begun to stream from Snape's mouth. He was visibly gagging and choking, much to the pleasure of several in the scene. But then, Lily's voice cut through the air, silencing many. "Leave him ALONE!"

James and Sirius at once turned to the source, although neither really needed to do so. If they'd heard that same scream once, they'd heard it a thousand times – if not more than that. James's free hand immediately jumped to his hair, rumpling it further.

"All right, Evans?" said James. His voice sounded immediately deeper than the usual tones. It was his so-called 'Lily voice' and once upon a time, Sarah would make fun of it alongside the other boys.  
"Leave him alone," Lily repeated, glaring at the two boys, but mainly at James. "What's he done to you?"  
As menacing as Lily was trying to be, James was not swayed in the slightest. He seemed to almost be deliberating her question and just how to answer. "Well," he said at last, "it's more the fact that he _exists_, if you know what I mean…"

At this, many of the surrounding students laughed, including Sirius, of course. Sarah would be hard pressed to think of a joke James could tell at which Sirius _wouldn't_ laugh. They were like two fucking peas in a pod.

Lily, of course, wasn't laughing. "You think you're funny," she said. "But you're just an arrogant, bullying toerag, Potter. Leave him _alone_."  
"I will if you go out with me, Evans," said James quickly. "Go on… go out with me and I'll never lay a wand on old Snivelly again."

Behind him, Snape was beginning to inch towards his fallen wand, spitting out soapsuds as he crawled. Sarah tightened the grip on her wand, but said nothing. Maybe if Lily kept James and Sirius distracted enough, Snape would be able to get out of this mess. That was assuming, however, that he wouldn't try for immediate revenge. That would only make the scene worse.

"I wouldn't go out with you if it was a choice between you and the giant squid," said Lily.  
Beside James, Sirius shook his head. "Bad luck, Prongs." And finally, someone had noticed Snape's movements as at that moment, he shouted. "OI!"

But he was too late; Snape had managed to retrieve and point his wand straight at James. There was a bright flash of light, and immediately, a gash appeared on the side of James's face, spattering his robes with blood. A few of the students, Lily and Sarah included, gasped. James whirled about: a second flash of light later, Snape was once again hanging upside-down in the air, his robes falling over his head to reveal skinny, pale legs and a pair of grey underpants.

Another round of loud cheers went through the crowd. Sirius and James especially roared with laughter.

Lily's furious expression had twitched for the most brief of moments, almost as though she was going to smile, but instead snapped: "Let him down!"  
"Certainly," said James and he jerked his wand upwards. With a loud _thump_, Snape fell into a crumpled heap on the ground. He disentangled himself from his robes and quickly scrambled to his feet, wand up, but before he could manage even a single letter of a curse, Sirius said, "_Petrificus Totalus!_" and Snape fell again, rigid as a board this time.  
Lily was growing more infuriated with every moment. "LEAVE HIM ALONE!" She shouted, her own wand out now. James and Sirius eyed it warily, though neither lowered his.  
"Ah, Evans, don't make me hex you," said James.  
"Take the curse off him, then!"  
James sighed deeply, then turned to Snape and muttered the counter-curse. "There you go," he said, as Snape once more struggled to his feet. "You're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus –"  
"I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!"

And just like that, several people in the crowd went quiet. Not everyone, but those who actually knew the people involved, they were too shocked to say anything for several moments. Sarah's own eyes were wide, and her heart was racing in her chest.

Lily simply blinked.

"Fine," she said. "I won't bother in the future. And I'd wash your pants if I were you, _Snivellus_."  
"Apologise to Evans!" James roared at Snape, his wand pointed at the other boy.  
But his words did not, in any way, have the desired effect. "I don't want you to make him apologise," shouted Lily. "You're as bad as he is."  
"What?" James yelped loudly. "I'd NEVER call you a – you-know-what!"  
"Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can – I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK."

And with that, she turned on her heel and hurried away. Sarah watched as Dorcas and Marlene immediately converged on the redhead.

"Evans!" James shouted after her. "Hey, EVANS!"

But she didn't look back. The three witches hurried to the edge of the lake where they had been sitting previously. Sarah turned back to the scene, not watching as Lily and the other girls gathered up their things and hurried for a new place where they wouldn't have to see any of those involved with what had just happened.

James, for his part, tried his hardest to act like none of this mattered. "What is it with her?" he asked Sirius.  
"Reading between the lines, I'd say she thinks you're a bit conceited, mate," said Sirius.  
James' hand leapt once more to his hair. "Right,' he said angrily, "right –"

There was another bright flash of light, and Snape was once again hanging upside-down in the air. A few people cheered, but by now, the crowd was beginning to disperse. Some were wearing awkward looks on their faces as they turned to back to what they were doing, some looked afraid. After all, with all the commotion, it was only a matter of time before a professor came outside. No one wanted to be included with whatever punishment would be handed out for what had just happened.

"Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?" asked James with a crooked grin on his face.  
"James, that's ENOUGH," Sarah said with more strength than she knew she possessed.  
"Finally speaking up, Zach? Took you long enough, though I must say, you're pulling for a different side than I would have expected."  
Sarah glared. "If this is unexpected, Potter, then you're stupider than I thought. Let him down."  
James only seemed to become more incensed. "Did you hear what he called Evans?"  
"Of course I did, he says it to me all the time!" she shouted. "But that's _enough_. Let. Him. _Down_."  
"I don't much think I like the idea of taking orders from you," replied James coolly.  
"Then just wait until one of the Professors gets out here! You _really_ think no one has gone to fetch one of them by now?"  
Sirius leaned closer to James. "'Hate to say it mate –"  
But James cut him off. "Fine."

Snape hit the ground roughly again with another dull _thud_.

"Get out of here," James seethed.

Snape shot a glare to the three of them, but picked up his fallen bag and stalked away. Sarah watched him go and then turned back to James, her eyes narrowed and her cheeks warm. He was still bleeding, though with the way his cheeks were flushing, it almost wasn't noticeable.

"Get to the Hospital Wing, you're a mess," she snapped.  
"Stop giving me orders."  
"Oh, so you like bleeding all over yourself, then?" she countered harshly.  
"Maybe I do!" he shouted.  
"You're acting like a child!" she answered.  
"Stay out of it," he said, wiping his sleeve against his cheek. As if that helped. It just smeared the blood droplets, making the wound look more gruesome than ever.  
"I will, then!"

Distance didn't make any of them cool down. Half an hour later, they were all just as they were in that instant: James Potter was furious, Sirius Black seemed annoyed (if anything), Lily Evans was a mixture of hurt and furious, and Sarah Zachary was no longer worried about her examinations.

After the scene, the girls were in a courtyard in the castle. It took Sarah more than ten minutes just to find them, for Dorcas had gathered Sarah's things as well. James was busy wiping blood from his cheek and pretending to not be as angry as he was. Sirius was staring where the girls had been sitting, his thoughts and feelings hidden behind a calm mask. Remus felt ill, but not just because of what had just transpired. Peter sat with a stunned look on his face, as if he didn't quite believe what he had just seen. Snape was nowhere to be found, but was both fuming and fretting. Because he _knew_ that he'd just added the final hypothetical wand to the hypothetical hippogriff's back. He _knew_ he'd just lost the one person who actually cared about _him_. He _knew_ that he had just screwed up in the worst way possible.

All because James Potter wasn't one for rules and knew that he was adored by nearly the whole school.


	2. What's the Opposite of Normal?

_**A/N:** The wonderful world of Harry Potter or the Marauders do not belong to me. Sad times._

* * *

Chapter 1  
Or, What's the Opposite of Normal?

In the sweltering heat of one July 7th, 1966, Sarah Angela Zachary skipped down her street, on her way to the park nearby. She did not know any James Potter. She did not know any Lily Evans, no Remus Lupin, or a whole list of people who would play roles in her story in the years to come. She did not yet have any of the friends who would later come to shape her life.

In fact, Sarah Zachary at this time didn't have any friends.

She supposed sometimes (as she read books in her room or watched the telly with her parents), that this was not how it was supposed to be. These fictional characters that she read about and watched always had others by their side. They always had someone to whom they could talk, laugh, and share. Sarah had only her parents. However, the rare times this came across her mind, it didn't particularly bother her. She didn't see much of the point, as it were. She rather preferred being on her own much of the time. Sometimes, she wondered if it was that she just didn't really fit in where she currently was. There were a few reasons for this, some of which she was aware, some, not so much.

Or maybe it was that being alone was all she'd known. Either way, if someone were to ask Sarah if she were lonely, she would immediately say that she wasn't. She had her imagination, her books, and her parents. That was enough for her. Being lonely never entered her mind. It was a foreign concept and one that never entered her mind.

But that (as you will read far, far too much) is neither here nor there.

July 7th of 1966, not quite a full ten years before the infamous day already introduced, was an utterly abysmal day. It was one of the hottest in several years and the humidity was nothing short of oppressive. For London, England, it was bizarre for it to be as hot and humid as it was that day. Such weather was more common in much more southern latitudes. Still, Sarah gave it no thought as she skipped down the street to her favourite park. Her mum, who wasn't due at work for several hours, but who was still quite busy with things around the house, had grudgingly allowed Sarah to go unaccompanied, sure that the other children's mothers would recognize and watch over her. The part of London in which they lived wasn't a terribly dangerous place and there wasn't much of a reason for Mrs. Zachary to worry.

So it was under these conditions that Sarah came to be skipping down the street on which her family lived, when quite suddenly, a snobbish voice grabbed her attention and nearly caused her to trip over herself from the surprise.

"Where are you going in such a hurry?"

The girl turned to investigate the source of the voice. It was a boy. He was probably about her age, but was already incredibly nice-looking, with dark hair and bright grey eyes. He had clear, fair, skin and was dressed in rather expensive-looking clothes. Sarah had never seen a six year old like this.

She almost felt out of place in her department-store garments.

"What?"

A rather rude expression formed on his features. "You're not deaf, are you?"

"_No_," said Sarah. "You're not a prat, are you?"

"Probably am," he shrugged. "Where are you going?"

"To the park." She pointed down the road. She could just barely see it.

He followed her point for a moment, but then leaned against the wall with a thick air of nonchalance. "What's so great about it?"

"Have you never been?"

"No, me mum won't let me be near the muggles."

"What's a –"

"SIRIUS BLACK YOU GET INSIDE OF THIS HOUSE THIS INSTANT!" came a shrill voice.

"Welp, guess that's my cue," the boy breathed as he pushed off the wall.

"Wait!" cried Sarah as she lunged forward, gripping the boy's wrist in her hand. "Come with me!"

"I – I can't!" he said, his cool façade beginning to crumble.

"Yes you can, just run!" she insisted, beginning to drag him towards the street.

"No, really, you don't understand!" he pleaded, trying to pull his arm from hers.

"SIRIUS BLACK DID YOU _HEAR_ ME? YOU GET AWAY FROM THAT FILTHY MUGGLE AND INSIDE BEFORE I WHIP YOU!"

"I'm sorry!" the boy. He managed to free himself from Sarah's grasp and immediate began running for the row of houses. Sarah pulled several strands of damp hair from her face and then, as an after-though, called out: "My name's Sarah!"

"Won't do no good, mate," said another voice, but this time, distinctly _girl._

From seemingly nowhere stepped a girl who looked to be Sarah's age and height. But that was where the similarities ended. Where Sarah's eyes were a blue-grey, this girl's were bright green. Where Sarah had olive skin that was summer-tanned to a light brown, this girl was quite pale. Where Sarah's hair was stick-straight and a deep espresso, hers was blonde mess of waves and almost-curls plaited down her back. Where Sarah was a mess of limbs, this girl had a posture that was somehow casual and disciplined at the same time. Regardless, Sarah couldn't help but feel one thing when she saw the girl – comfort.

"What?" Sarah asked.

Dorcas shrugged. "His family's all buggered up. No sense tellin' him your name. But it's nice to meet yeh, Sarah."

"Um, well it's nice to meet you too uhh…"

"The name's Doe," introduced the blonde as she stuck a hand out to Sarah.

"Doe? Really?" asked Sarah with a small smile.

"Is short for Dorcas, alrigh'?"

Sarah burst out into a fit of giggles, which the girl did _not_ reciprocate.

"Oi, don't make fun of me name now! I'll make yeh pay!" said Dorcas as she grabbed Sarah and caught her in a headlock, messing up her hair.

"Okay, okay!" yelped Sarah, slipping from the other girl's grasp.

Sarah glanced at the girl nervously, but now a smile was gracing the girl's face.

"Um, I'm –"

"No need to apologize, mate. I'd make fun of it too, if it warn't mine," she said.

"How do you know –"

"The Blacks? Distant relatives on me fatha's side. Don' actually know 'em too well. Only met 'em the one time," she said, beginning to walk to the park.

Sarah glanced over her shoulder at where she thought the boy had disappeared. Wherever these 'Blacks' were, there was no indication of them. There was no sign above the post box, and the shrill sounds of that woman had died off ages ago.

"No sense lookin' for 'em," called Doe from a few meters ahead. "You're still comin' to the park?"

"Wha? Yeah, of course…" said Sarah as she jogged to catch up with the other girl.

It struck Sarah, then, how many odd things had just occurred in the space of only about ten minutes. She'd never seen the boy once in her 6 years of life. She'd been to the park nearly every day of holiday and of the holiday before that and had never _once_ seen him. She'd never seen him in her primary school, either. Nor had she ever seen Dorcas before this instant. And yet, she had just met the both of them right then and there, on that seemingly normal day. For being a "normal" day, it was actually quite odd indeed, from the temperature right to the people.

"Why do you talk so funny?" blurted Sarah.

"I don'! Yeh lot are the ones with an oddness," winked Doe.

"Come on, Doe!" whined Sarah as she skipped a few steps ahead, turning sideways to face this new friend.

"I'm no' from 'ere, alrigh'?" said Doe.

"Where ya' from then?" asked Sarah with a few more skips.

There was a slight pause. Sarah couldn't quite read the blonde's face and when Doe spoke, it was rather quiet.

"My mam and I lived near Cardiff with my fatha'. But… he died. Mam's from here, so we came back."

Sarah was no longer skipping. Both girls had stopped now and were staring at each other.

It's funny, how some things can be spoken _without_ actually being spoken. Sometimes you can meet a person to whom you never actually _have_ to say _anything_. Sarah Zachary and Dorcas Meadowes had just found that person in each other.

"My mum and dad aren't really my mum and dad," admitted Sarah.

But just because they didn't have to say anything, didn't mean that they didn't want to.

"Who are they?" Dorcas asked as the two of them resumed their walk to the park.

"My aunt and uncle," said Sarah.

"Wha' happened to your real mam and dad?" asked Doe as she kicked a rock.

Sarah shrugged and kicked the rock as well when they had caught up to it.

"In France, I think… mum and dad don't talk about it."

"Sarah?" asked Doe, coming to a halt.

Sarah swallowed. Whatever Dorcas was about to ask, it must have been serious. Her brow was furrowed and her eyes were hard. Of course, they weren't very well acquainted just yet, so she actually had no way of knowing if such were the case or not.

"Yeah, Doe?"

"I like your socks."

And like that, Dorcas Meadowes and Sarah Zachary were friends.

As it turned out, Dorcas lived about three streets over. Though she didn't attend the same primary school as Sarah, they spent as much time together as possible. Dorcas would walk to and from the school with Sarah, usually talking, but not always. Sometimes she would go to Sarah's home in the afternoon, sometimes, Sarah came to her house. Sarah was always fascinated by some of the things in her friend's home, and Doe did what she could to explain what she could. Sometimes, though, they would go to the park. Dorcas tried to get Sarah to attend dance lessons with her. Sarah wasn't quite as good as her blonde friend, but stuck with it anyway. Sarah tried to get Dorcas into football with similar results. Doe said that there was a sport much better than football, but when Sarah asked about it, the blonde went all hush-hush. She refused to elaborate for some reason.

The two of them may not have enjoyed each other's hobbies, or been particularly adept at them, but what was important to them was that they were spending time together. Finally, when Sarah read her books or watched the telly with her parents, she understood. Before, she would just watch or read of friendships with an unattached curiosity. Sure, she talked to other people. Sure, she enjoyed spending time with them. But at the end of the day, she was happiest on her own. Now, she felt almost lonely when she and Doe were separated. There were some things that she still enjoyed on her own or with her family, but when her friend was there, everything was just… better.

* * *

"Sirius Black, just _what_ do you think you were doing?"

Walburga Black had never looked so angry. Her pale cheeks were blotchily stained crimson. Her eyes, which resembled the grey of a rotting corpse, were bright and wild. Her small mouth was puckered as she surveyed the young boy before her. She wasn't just angry – she was _livid_. Truthfully, she was absolutely terrifying in that moment.

The boy, in contrast, stood defiant and proud. His head was raised and showed no physiological symptoms of rage or anxiety – his fair skin was even. His glittering silver eyes were hard and steady as they met his mother's. His smooth hands were clenched into tight fists by his sides. He was determined to not be intimidated or scared by the woman. Not this time. He had done nothing wrong. He had nothing for which to apologize.

The two figures stared at each other for several moments until finally the woman violently struck the boy, breaking his defiant eye contact.

"Answer me when I speak to you!" she commanded bitterly. "What were you thinking?"

"I was just saying hello!" the boy cried out.

"To a _muggle!_" she shrieked.

The boy glared angrily at her feet.

"How could you shame us so?"

"I didn't!" he argued.

The woman struck the boy again, harder this time. His head whipped to the side with such force from her blow that he felt his neck pop. Still, he did everything he could to not cry out. He would not give her the satisfaction of knowing that she was hurting him.

"Do _not_ talk back to me! You were talking to a muggle! You were deliberately disobeying what your father and I have been telling you for years!"

The boy seethed. He hated it when his mother yelled at him. Sure, the muggles might have been beneath them, but just saying _hello_ should not be warranting such a reaction. It wasn't fair! He was allowed, expected, even, to talk to the House Elf, but to a simple muggle? He was banned from that? He didn't understand. Muggles, at least, were people. They were still human, despite their lack of ability. He was starting to realize just how little sense this made. Being allowed to talk to a non-human creature, but not to a fellow person. It wasn't right, and Sirius wasn't going to stand for being yelled at for it.

"It was just hello! She seemed okay!" he argued, trying again to just make her _see_. The girl had shown him such a kind smile. It was nicer even, than that damned House Elf, or that of his mother's. He and the girl didn't know each other at all, but she'd automatically accepted him and treated him with some amount of kindness and respect. She'd treated them as equal, as friends, almost. Why couldn't he have done the same?

"It doesn't matter! They're barbaric, each and every one of them! Even a little bitch like that!"

"She wasn't a bitch!"

"_Don't_ use such language in front of your mother!"

"You just used it!"

Another slap, yet again to the same side of his face. His cheek was burning now, from each strike from her palm. It was on _fire_, it hurt so badly. The boy blinked, willing the tears from the pain to not fall. He couldn't show weakness. If a single tear were to fall, it would only make things worse. He _hated_ her in that moment. How could she talk about barbarism as she beat her own son? How could she criticize the behaviour of muggles and label it atrocious when she was acting in such a way? How could she talk of others being bitches?

"What did I say about talking back?" she demanded.

"Not to do it," he said through gritted teeth.

"Young man, I have had enough of your attitude. Now, try it again, or I'll whip you so hard you won't sit for a week."

The boy took a deep breath. What she said was no idle threat, he knew that sure enough.

"I won't talk back again, ma'am," he said evenly.

"Good. Now what will you do if a muggle addresses you?"

'_Become best mates with him or her just to anger you,'_ he thought to himself. But instead he carefully said, "Ignore their presence."

There was a long pause as the older woman appraised the boy before her. She still looked incredibly cross and like she very well may lash out again at any moment without warning.

"You'll have no supper tonight –"

The boy's mouth fell open to protest, and the woman raised her voice in response, to overpower him.

"No supper, except for what Kreacher brings you and you're _not_ to sneak out to get more! I'll have Kreacher keep an eye out for any such occurrence and you'll be severely punished for it, do you understand?"

"Yes ma'am…"

"Consider yourself lucky. If I had dared talk to a muggle as you did and then had the audacity to speak back to my elders, I would have suffered far worse. Be thankful for my mercy."

There was yet _another_ silence as the boy tried to keep a straight face. Mercy. Right.

"You're excused."

"Yes ma'am, of course ma'am," he said in an exaggeratedly polite tone. He turned and marched from the room, making his way to the stairs.

Oh, how he wanted to stomp up those stairs. He wanted to set his feet on each step with such force that his knees would scream in protest. He wanted to pour every ounce of anger and hatred into each step so that the _thuds_ reverberated through the entire house – no, the entire _neighbourhood_. Upon arrival at the top of the stairs, he wanted to slam his door shut so that paintings and portraits fell from the walls. He wanted to slam his door shut so hard that it never again opened. He wanted to climb out the window and not return… ever.

The idea was tempting to him. It was so incredibly tempting. But how could he pull it off? Sirius crested the last of the stairs and walked into his room, shutting the door behind him. He was on the bleeding fourth floor. There were muggles all around. Even if the latter condition weren't the case, he didn't know any meaningful magic. He couldn't really control it yet, either. He was trapped. He was going to _be_ trapped until after he finished school in 12 years. 12 years… it seemed like forever. For all intents and purposes, it _was_ forever. If he could wait five years, though, he'd at least be gone for whole stretches of nine months. He wouldn't come back for winter holiday. Just five years.

With an exasperated sigh, he threw himself on his back on his bed, his hands behind his head as he stared at the underside of the canopy.

"Sirius…?" asked a timid voice.

Sirius turned his head to see his younger brother poking his head through the doorway.

"What is it, Reg?" asked the boy.

"Are you okay? I heard mum yelling…"

Sirius took a deep breath, somewhat glad that his younger brother – Regulus – wasn't able to see the left side of Sirius' face – the one that had been slapped thrice and which _still_ felt like it was on fire.

"I'm fine, Reg."

"What was she yelling about?"

"Nothing, Reg."

"I heard her say something about muggles."

Sirius sighed again. "Why do you ask questions to which you already know the answer?"

"I only _heard_ the word, I didn't hear the context," argued the younger boy as he stepped into the room completely. He was dressed to look almost like a younger version of the boy on the bed. But his features were different. His eyes weren't quite as bright and his hair a shade lighter.

"You argue too good for someone your age," said Sirius.

"It's 'argue too _well_'," corrected Regulus. "And I've just had practice."

Sirius scoffed, "No you haven't. You're just observant. I'm the one getting into fights."

"Well, what was it this time?" asked the younger of the two.

"I talked to a muggle."

"_Sirius_!"

The older boy didn't have to look at his brother to know the scandalized look upon his face. He'd seen it before. "Oh shut up."

"Why would you do that? You know what mum and dad think!"

"And I think they're _wrong_," argued Sirius.

"Since when?"

"Since… since now!" the older boy decided.

"But Sirius, muggles are dangerous! They kill people!"

"Wizards kill people too, Reg."

"But… but the ways they live…"

"We don't know anything about how they live!"

The younger boy was clearly growing frustrated. "Sure we do! Mum and dad –"

"Mum and dad don't know anything about muggles either! It's all nonsense!"

"Sirius, I'll – I'll tell mum!"

Finally, the boy on the bed sat up. His face was a mixture of hurt and anger, the blood rushing to his cheeks. What he was thinking, though, one could only guess.

"Don't be a fink."

"Then don't be stupid!"

"I'm not being stupid, I just think they're wrong!"

"No, you're wrong Sirius! You're the one who's wrong and –"

"Get out!" yelled the older boy, pointing to the door. "Just get out Regulus!"

The younger boy looked like he may cry, for his older brother had _never_ yelled at him before. Never. The boys' mother yelled at them all the time. Their father yelled at them on occasion. But Sirius had never once yelled at his younger brother. Usually, Sirius was there to comfort Regulus after one of their parents had screamed at him (which didn't happen often). Sirius was there to tell Regulus that everything would be all right. But this time… he wasn't. He was the one yelling at Regulus. It wasn't right. Regulus turned on his heel and left the room, slamming the door loudly behind him. Sirius winced, hoping desperately that his mum hadn't heard that, because if she had….

"Sirius Black!"

Fuck.

* * *

"Sarah, what's going on?"

"Nothing!"

Doe wasn't buying it. She'd been a friend to Sarah for three years now. They spent nearly _every day_ together. She _knew_ Sarah and she _knew_ that there was something going on.

"Sarah, you're my best mate, I know there's something wrong!"

"Nothing's wrong Doe, just leave it be!"

This was absolutely infuriating. They didn't keep any secrets from each other. The idea was preposterous. To them, it was a foreign concept. The very thought had never crossed either of their minds. They told each other absolutely _everything_. But for some reason, Sarah wouldn't tell Dorcas why she was so jumpy these past few weeks. She wouldn't tell Dorcas just why she wanted to walk to school alone. She wouldn't tell Dorcas just why she wanted to immediately leave at the end of the day instead of climbing the jungle gym or wasting time on the swing set as they so often did. She wasn't telling Dorcas _anything_.

Sarah was scared of something and Doe wanted to know what.

No, she _needed_ to know what. And she would find out that very afternoon, one way or another.

"Uh-oh…" Sarah suddenly said.

"What is it?" asked Doe.

Sarah's eyes had suddenly grown to the size of saucers and it seemed like she was paler than normal. She was worried and scared. There was no other explanation. "Hey… uh… how about you go on to the park? I'll be there in a bit…" Sarah began trying to move past Dorcas.

"What?" Doe exclaimed, as she reached out and grabbed Sarah by the arm. "No! Sarah, what's –"

"Just go, Doe!" Sarah nearly shouted as she tried to pull her arm from Doe's grasp.

"No, tell me what's happening!"

"Hey queer!"

Doe spun around, anger on her face. A boy was walking, no _strutting_, towards them, a stupid grin on his face.

"_What_ did you just say?" she demanded of the boy striding up to the pair of them.

"Not you, your friend!" he said with a laugh.

From what Dorcas knew, William Perkins III was _the_ school bully. His parents were absolutely _loaded_ and had doted on Billy from a young age. The boy rarely heard the word 'no' and refused to accept it when he did. As far as Dorcas knew, he hadn't ever given Sarah any trouble before, and so she hadn't really given any thought to the boy. But he'd just called out an insult for no reason, on one of the occasions when Sarah seemed more frightened than ever. Doe couldn't stand by anymore.

She was going to make him sorry he'd ever crossed their paths.

"Exactly! _My friend_! Now tell me what you said!" demanded Dorcas. She could feel her blood boiling and her heart was racing from the adrenaline. This was fight or flight time and she was getting ready for a fight.

"Don't have to. Go play with your dolls."

"I'm not going _any_where," Doe said dangerously.

"Oh, so are you her girlfriend?"

"Doe…" trailed Sarah helplessly.

"Her _what_?" asked Doe.

"Do you go to the special school, or something? I asked if you're her girlfriend. Oh hey – which one's the butch?" inquired Billy as if he was simply asking about homework.

"Shut up! She's not like that! _We're_ not like that!"

"Sure, tell me one I'll believe," he said with a cruel smirk.

"Will you believe that you're a complete imbecile?"

"Ouch, that really hurt."

"Go jump off a bridge!" snapped Doe.

"Oh shut that trap of yours. You don't even go here. This isn't your fight, and besides, Zachary owes me something."

"What, your knackers? Because I've seen geldings with bigger than yours."

"You little bitch!"

"Doe…"

Suddenly, the boy's hand shot out, grabbing Doe by a fistful of her blonde hair and pulling as hard as he could. Doe screamed and fell forward with his hand, falling to her knees.

"You can't talk to me like that!" Billy yelled.

"Doe!" cried Sarah.

"Shut up, Zachary!"

"Let me go!" yelled Doe, tears clearly forming in her eyes from the pain.

"Let her go!" Sarah was pulling on his arm.

"Shut up!" he yelled, trying to push Sarah away with his free hand.

"Stop it!" Sarah screamed.

"Shut up!"

"Stop!"

Suddenly, he was screaming for some other reason and Dorcas realized that she'd been released. She fell backwards onto her backside and glanced up, her eyes wide with shock when she saw it.

Billy Perkins' backpack was on fire.

Not just fire – _fire_. Huge flames that threatened to spread to his shirt.

"Come on, Doe!" yelled Sarah, who was suddenly at Dorcas' side, pulling her to her feet by the arm.

Doe got to her feet and immediately took off after Sarah, who continued to lead by a few meters. If there was one clear thing about Sarah, it was that she was fast on her feet. She loved playing football and was one of the fastest on the team.

"Sarah, wait up!" called Doe.

"Not yet!" answered Sarah.

"Where are we going?"

"Home!"

The two of them continued running – Doe barely keeping up along the way – until they reached Sarah's home, falling through the door, panting heavily and sweating profusely from the exertion. The weather that day was actually quite nice. A bit on the warm side perhaps, but the sun was shining and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. It was just a typical spring day in mid-May.

Mrs. Zachary wouldn't be home for a few hours, which was a pretty good thing. Any responsible mom would currently be interrogating the pair, trying to figure out what had happened. Hell, once she had found out, she'd immediately be on the phone with Mrs. Perkins, explaining exactly what had happened and looking for punishment for the boy. Not that he'd get it at any rate. He was as spoilt as they came. On the slight chance he was punished, he was likely to retaliate against Sarah. All they could hope for was that the events of that afternoon would serve to keep him away.

"Wha – what happened back there?" gasped out Doe.

"I… I got so mad…" stuttered Sarah.

"How did his backpack catch fire like that?" asked Dorcas.

"I don't know," tried Sarah. "But I wanted him to stop, and I was so angry… suddenly, it just burst into flame."

Dorcas Meadowes knew about her parents. She knew that neither of her parents were Muggle. She knew that she was not, either. 'Muggle', of course, is meaning a person of non-magic. Dorcas' father was not a Muggle. He was a wizard. Her mother was a not a Muggle, but a witch. Dorcas was not a Muggle. She was a witch as well. Sarah's parents, at least as far as Doe could tell, were Muggles. Then again, the couple with whom Sarah lived were not her real parents.

The point was; Dorcas hadn't been the one to start that fire. Perkins wouldn't cause his own backpack to combust like that.

Which meant only one thing to Doe.

Sarah Zachary was no Muggle.

"Socks…"

"What, Doe?"

But how to tell her? _Should_ Doe tell her? Sarah had a right to know, did she not? But was Doe supposed to tell her? What if Sarah wasn't really a witch? What if she really was a Muggle? It wasn't hard to imagine that it had actually been Dorcas to cause the fire without realizing it. Usually though, when she accidentally performed magic, she knew it. She could feel it. This time, she hadn't felt anything. She was pretty sure that she hadn't been the one to set the fire. But if Dorcas was wrong and told Sarah about the existence of witches and wizards, then she'd get in so much trouble…

"Never mind. I forgot what I was going to say."

* * *

Two years later, in another part of England, someone else was wrestling with a difficult topic. After much consideration, a plan came into being. All that was left was to persuade the parents. It all would have to start with a knock on a door.

"Maura, are you expecting company?"

"No, John."

"Odd…"

Mr. John Lupin walked to the door, confusion apparent on his face. Up on the landing of the second floor, a small boy stared through the banister. He looked atrociously ill, with a pale face and dark shadows under his eyes. His hands, which gripped the banister rungs tightly, both had white gauze wrapped around them. He watched with rapt attention as his father opened the door, revealing an older man with white hair and a long beard.

"Dumbledore," said Mr. Lupin, quite surprised.

"Good day, Mr. Lupin, Mrs. Lupin…. I take it that's young Remus up there."

The boy's eyes widened as the old man made eye contact with him. His father turned around to see his son staring down at the scene. There was no expression on his face, so whether he was displeased or not to see Remus sitting there, the boy couldn't be sure.

Lupin turned back to the man on the doorstep. "Yes, that's him. What is this about?"

"I wonder if I may come inside? I believe there are things we must discuss."

"Oh, of course. Pardon my manners…"

John Lupin stepped to the side, allowing Dumbledore space to enter the home.

"Could I get you something?" asked Maura Lupin. "Tea?"

"That would be lovely."

"Right, well, I suppose we can talk in the room over here." He turned to the stairway. "Remus, go back to your room, if you wouldn't mind."

But then Dumbledore turned to face the boy's father. "On the contrary, John. I think he should be present for this discussion as it concerns him. Unless, he would rather sit behind the banister?"

"Oh, well…." Lupin turned back to his son and nodded his head. The boy scrambled to his feet and dashed down the stairs awkwardly, holding the railing with one hand. Remus sat on a chair that was much too large for him, his feet coming nowhere near the floor just yet. Dumbledore took an armchair across from him, and his father sat down on the couch. A few moments later, Remus' mother came into the room with a tray of tea, and, after setting it down on the small table, took a seat beside her husband.

"I believe you both must know why I am here," said Dumbledore.

"Well, to be honest," said John as his wife began serving tea, "no."

"I am here of course, about your son. About Remus."

Maura Lupin looked up from her task, her face hard. "Well, if you're here to tell us that he isn't welcome at Hogwarts –"

"My dear, not at all. Quite the opposite."

Whatever the parents had been expecting, it certainly wasn't that. In fact, everyone in the room knew exactly what Maura Lupin had been about to say before Dumbledore had – that they already knew Remus wouldn't be going to Hogwarts.

"I'm sorry, but are you trying to suggest that Remus go to that school come the fall?" asked John as his wife handed him a cup of tea.

"Indeed I am," nodded the Headmaster.

"But surely… surely you received our letter?"

Dumbledore was accepting his cup of tea. "Ah, thank you Maura. And yes, I did. It was most thoughtful of you."

Lupin's face began to colour at the cheeks, his frown only growing more intense. "Well what were we supposed to do?"

"John," whispered his wife.

"I was merely complimenting the thoughtfulness of the letter you sent," said Dumbledore. "But you needn't fret so."

"I'm sorry Dumbledore, but you did _read_ the letter, didn't you?"

"Of course I did," the Headmaster said cheerfully enough as he lifted the cup of tea to his lips.

Mr. and Mrs. Lupin exchanged equally confused glances.

"Remus," began Dumbledore, "would you like to go to school?"

The boy glanced anxiously from the stranger sitting across from him to his parents on the couch and back again. "Well… yes. Sir. Yes sir, I would."

"Quite right."

"But Dumbledore, he… he _can't_," said Mrs. Lupin.

"And why not?" the Professor asked.

John Lupin's mouth opened and closed several times. "Well, because… because of what he _is_, Dumbledore."

"An eleven-year old child?"

"He's a werewolf!" burst Mrs. Lupin. She rather looked like she may cry. "He can't go to that school! He'd…" her eyes fell on her son who was looking down at his feet in a mixture of fear and shame.

"So you would have me refuse admittance to a boy, an entire lifetime of education, both academic and social because of what happens once a month?" asked Dumbledore.

Neither of the Lupins knew just how to respond to that. After all, he was their son and they wanted nothing more than for him to go to that school, to make friends, to learn, and to simply have the life he deserved. No, it certainly was not some cruelty on their part that caused their outbursts or their arguments. It was not some sort of child mistreatment that made them send the letter to the school explaining that their son would not be attending because of an affliction he could not help. It was reality that made them do these things. It was concern, not just for their child, but also for every child in the world. In _their_ world, that is. They were not being selfish; they were being just the opposite.

"But sir," said the boy, "when I change, I could kill people… other students."

"And there is the crux of the matter," said Dumbledore, a slight twinkle in his blue eyes.

"What are you getting at, Dumbledore?" asked John Lupin.

"There is no reason Remus cannot attend Hogwarts, provided we have a way to keep the wolf away from the other children."

"So what are you going to do, send him off to St. Mungo's every month? That's a long journey, Dumbledore."

"Certainly not. I think the boy would grow quite weary of that after a short while," Dumbledore said with a shake of his head.

Mrs. Lupin, however, did not look convinced at all. "But the parents. They'll –"

"There is no need for anyone but the staff, Remus, and yourselves to know about his unfortunate circumstances."

"They have a right to know, Dumbledore!" protested John Lupin. "And when they find out…"

"But do they really have a right to know? Do you have a right to know if perhaps one of the other children has some chronic illness and that as long as he is careful no one will be hurt?"

"Of course they do!" answered Mrs. Lupin. "Because what if something happens? What if there's an accident, or someone _isn't_ careful? He's dangerous!"

Dumbledore gazed across the way to the young boy who was once again staring at his shoes.

"I would not jeopardize any student's safety for the sake of another on a whim, I hope you know. The safety of the school and its occupants are my top priority, followed only by the goal of educating them. Therefore, you can rest assured that I have given this matter some thought. It seems quite cruel to punish the boy for something of which he was not the cause."

The two parents looked a bit taken aback. "We're sure you would never just thrust a student into danger of that sort, Headmaster," said John Lupin. "It's just…" but he never finished his thought. He paused, and then closed his mouth.

"I repeat: I see no reason why young Remus cannot attend Hogwarts, given that certain safety precautions are implemented."

"And those would be?" prompted Mrs. Lupin.

"Every Full Moon, Remus will report to the infirmary. The healer will then escort him to a special passage that has been built. This will take him to an isolated building far from the school grounds and the neighbouring village. There, the wolf will be enclosed, safe, and the students in the castle will be safe. In the mornings, he will be retrieved and able to go about his day."

The two parents mulled this over for a short while.

"What if someone tries to enter the passage?" Mrs. Lupin asked.

There was a bright gleam in Dumbledore's eye. "Let me simply say that the passage is _very_ well protected."

* * *

"Tell me again, Doe."

Dorcas took a deep breath. Sarah had been asking this question every few months since shortly after the fire incident. She'd been asking this question for over two years now. It was getting beyond ridiculous.

"You're magic, like me, Sarah," Doe started out by saying. "Those things you've done… the fire, the china figurine, your teeth straightening so fast with those braces things, the monkey bars, the vegetables, those weren't just odd occurrences. They weren't just your imagination. I was there – I saw them. You're a witch, Sarah."

"And there's really a school, just for us?" asked Sarah.

Doe nodded, unsure of just why her friend was fretting in such a way. The two girls had known each other for going on five years now. Perhaps she thought Dorcas was simply "yanking her chain", so to speak. The idea was preposterous. Then again, if Doe put herself in her friend's shoes, she could just almost see the other girl's point of view. Perhaps it wasn't as easy to believe as she thought.

"Yeah, there's actually a bunch of schools for us. But the one we'll be going to is called Hogwarts."

"And I'll be getting a letter by owl?" asked Sarah.

"Well… I'm not sure. You know, since yeh live with your Muggle parents. I think in your case, someone from the school will come to explain it to yehr family. But after that, they'll come by owl… that's what me parents told me."

There was a bit of silence between the two of them. There was something wrong, but Doe couldn't quite put her finger on it. Sarah still seemed worried about something.

Dorcas Meadowes was not exactly someone you would describe as "patient". She had a wicked thirst for knowledge and always had to know exactly what was going on around her. She always had to know exactly what others around her were thinking. The fact that Sarah was being so hesitant about what was wrong bothered Doe more than she may let on to others. Doe wanted to know what was wrong solely so that she could try to solve the problem. Whatever that problem may be.

"Come on Socks, what's eating you?" she asked, reaching over and slapping the tips of Sarah's trainers.

Sarah took a deep breath. "Do you remember the day we met?"

Dorcas laughed. Sure, it was a long time ago, but she still remembered it like yesterday. Sometimes Sarah really asked the strangest questions. "Of course I do. You were wearing those awesome socks with the cats that looked like they were playing with the little pom-poms that were dangling from the top. Hence the amazing nickname I bequeathed you with that day. Why?"

"Well… there was that other bit too. You know, with that boy… his mum said something about a 'filthy Muggle'."

Doe had a feeling this may come up eventually. She just wasn't expecting it quite so soon.

"There are some… not very nice people in this world," Doe started.

"You're joking!" said Sarah with an exaggerated gasp.

"Aw shut it, yeh twat!" laughed Doe as she reached over, smacking Sarah upside the head.

"Alright, alright, continue!" Sarah said with a giggle as she scooted a bit away from Doe, just in case she felt like playing the smart aleck a little longer.

"_Anyway_," continued Doe, "it's like the Perkins. They think they're better than everyone. But these people don't measure value in gold. They measure it by their blood."

Sarah's face fell and her brow knitted in confusion. To Dorcas, that seemed to be a pretty normal response to what she was explaining. There were plenty of people who probably made the same face the first time _they_ learned of this as well.

"The hell does that mean?" asked Sarah.

"Oi, language, Socks!" laughed Dorcas.

"Shut it, you're the one calling me a twat, you tart!" called Sarah as she tackled Doe to the ground, the two of them mussing each other's hair and wrestling along the ground.

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

"Just tell me what you meant, then!"

"Fine, fine, geroff me!"

Sarah and Doe disentangled each other and flopped onto the ground in Sarah's room. It was hot, but not _sweltering_. Now, though, it was July and the weather was acceptable for the month. The letters would be coming any day. Sarah's window was open; air conditioning didn't exist for her family, and they didn't have any fans.

"Alright then, Socks, here's the deal. Some of these people think they're better than everyone else just because all of their ancestors were witches and wizards too. According to them, magic blood is supreme and Muggle blood is disgusting. Muggles are lower than low to them. Not even human."

Sarah, at this point, was making a face, to which Doe nodded.

"Yeah, it gets worse. They think that people like you – the ones with magic, but with Muggle parents – they think you're… well, they think you're scum. They got a bad word fer it too, but don't expect me to say it. Anyway, that's what the old hag meant by it. She didn't want that prat son of hers associating with people of a so-called_ lower status_."

Sarah nodded, but stayed silent for a while.

"Are there many people like that?" she finally asked.

Doe shook her head, "Nah, most people are like me and don't give a rat's arse about who yehr parents are."

"What if my parents don't believe it? What if they don't want me to go?" asked Sarah.

"Whoever shows up to tell them will make sure that they believe it. And your parents are so nice, Sarah! Why wouldn't they want you to go?"

"I don't know. I guess it was a silly thought."

"You got that right."

* * *

August 29th 1971

**MINISTRY OFFICIAL MISSING – FAMILY PLEADS FOR INFORMATION**

Mister Alexander Dortmuth of the Muggle Liaison Office has been missing for approximately one week, having not returned home from work on the 21st. Mr. Dortmuth was the writer of several key laws in 1967 that granted harsher punishments to those using magic against Muggles. Whether his disappearance is related to those laws is so far unclear, and some say is highly unlikely, given the length of time since those laws were written. For example, when a colleague, who wished to remain anonymous, was questioned, he only had the following to say:

"Well, honestly, if this had anything to do with those laws, wouldn't he have been threatened then and not over four years later? You're making something from nothing. The ol' chap will turn up eventually, safe and sound – just you wait. Now please, some of us have work to do."

Whether this statement actually holds any credibility remains to be seen, but if you do have any information, please contact Mrs. Lydia Dortmuth by owl as soon as it is convenient.

* * *

_**A/N Part II:** Yay for backgrounds and backstory. The next chapter (titled "Welcome to the party, boys and girls"), will be in the "present", and by that, I mean September 1st 1976. Reviews, critiques, and (constructive) criticism are much loved 3_

_Until next time~_


	3. Welcome to the Party, Boys and Girls

_**A/N:** Sorry for the wait! And the length. It got away from me. Anyway, you know the drill: I don't own the world of Harry Potter or its characters, feedback is loved, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!_

* * *

Chapter 2  
Or, Welcome to the Party, Boys and Girls

September 1st, 1976.

"_Dorcas Deidre Meadowes_."

The blonde-haired, green-eyed girl grit her teeth and turned her attention from her trunk to the source of the voice – a sour old woman who stood in the doorway of Dorcas' room, glaring at her. Dorcas had hoped that her great-Aunt would not note her presence still in the estate. Unfortunately, luck was not something that Dorcas possessed in great abundance. For instance, on that particular day, the skies decided to open up across the majority of the United Kingdom. It was going to slow down the train, delay the feast, and, worst of all, inspire Peeves the Poltergeist to cause even more mischief and mayhem than usual. Put all of those delays with the excruciatingly long Sorting Ceremony, and she just knew that the evening was going to be unbearable.

"Ma'am?" she asked as she let the lid of her trunk fall with a sharp _bang_.

"Weren't you supposed to have left half an hour ago?" asked the woman. She was short, thin, and still retained some trace of good looks, despite her age. Dorcas hadn't thought her pretty or elegant, though, for a great many years. That didn't mean she wasn't, or that she was wholly evil. If pressed, Dorcas would have admitted some good points to Victoria Malfoy. The young witch, however, had been living with the woman for the better part of two years and hated every moment of it. Then again, the old hag probably hated those moments just as much as Dory did.

No, wait, she couldn't. That simply wasn't possible, Dorcas thought.

Dorcas stood from her trunk and walked over to her large canopied bed. "Probably."

"Then why are you still here, may I ask?"

_No, I don't think you may,_ was what Dorcas really wanted to reply. "I can't find my badge."

There was a big sigh from the doorway. "Really, how you obtained that badge when you're so irresponsible is beyond me."

Dorcas got on her hands and knees to search beneath her bed. "Because I _am_ responsible and I get on well with my classmates. It's not my fault that your damn cats move my things." There was an edge to her voice, but she tried to keep it from biting too much.

"_Language_ young lady, or you will no longer be welcome in this house for _my cats_ to move your possessions about. If you don't want Tibbet and Alphonse in here, then keep your door closed."

"I do, _ma'am_. But somehow, they get in anyway."

"A likely story."

Dorcas sat up from searching the floor under her bed with a heavy sigh. Her hands were resting on her knees and she stared at the ceiling in defeat, for she had no idea where else to look. It was just gone. Flitwick would _not_ be happy about this. She was going to be lectured something awful about it, she just knew it. Maybe it would be the final straw and the position would be handed off to one of her classmates. Well, maybe that would be best. She really wasn't the best person for the job as it was. Emmeline would probably get the position, as she should have from the start. The raven-haired girl was… just _better_. She was the type of person who just screamed _prefect _when you looked at her. Emmeline was bookish without being overly so, and still got fantastic marks without being boastful about it. She was practical, logical, and if she had ever served a single detention, Dorcas would give her great-Aunt a big hug.

Dorcas, by contrast, loved to boast about her marks and had served enough detentions to make the bottom of some professor's lists of usual suspects. The year before, when she had opened her Hogwart's letter to find a shiny gold badge waiting for her, she had immediately sent it back with a letter correcting the mistake. Not even an hour later, she had received it back with a letter saying that there _had_ been no mistake, and _no_, Professors Flitwick and Dumbledore weren't going senile. She then had written directly to a few of her friends, saying that it wasn't a particularly funny joke, and asking how had they managed to replicate the badge and Flitwick's writing so well? Her friends had replied back asking what drugs she was taking and would she share with them, as their holidays were terribly dull as of late? Dory had once again written the school asking if they were _absolutely sure _that the badge was meant for her and if so, why?

_Miss Dorcas Deidre Meadowes, there has been absolutely no mistake. While your record may not be as clean as those of some of your housemates, it is Professor Dumbledore's and my opinion that you are indeed a fit for the position of Prefect. You achieve top marks in your subjects, even with your other obligations and extracurricular activities. You have excellent rapport with your professors and, more importantly, with your classmates. I only ask that you take this post seriously and do not abuse it._

_Most sincerely,  
__Professor Fidelius Flitwick._

Twelve months later, Dorcas still didn't buy a word of it.

But all of that just might be moot if she didn't find that damn shiny badge.

A drawer slammed loudly behind her and Dorcas' head whipped around to find her great-Aunt digging through her dresser. "What are you doing?"

"Did you even check your dresser or desk?" the old woman questioned as she pulled open another drawer.

Dorcas got to her feet, trying to ignore the dimming in her eyesight that came with her rush to stand. "I wouldn't have put it in either of those places."

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't check." _Slam_.

Dorcas walked over to another piece of furniture, preparing to get on her knees again. "That's exactly what it means. You're wasting your time."

"If you don't want my help…"

"You're right, I don't."

"Would it kill you to be polite?"

There was no badge under Dorcas' nightstand. "It might."

"Just you wait. Mouth off to the wrong person…." _Slam._

Dorcas got to her feet and walked back to her bed, checking the bed linens. "You may have a point there. I may stand up to that great-nephew of yours, and –"

"Lucius is a perfectly well-behaved, _polite_ –"

"Simpleminded, psychotic –"

"Level-headed –"

"Slimy –"

"Hardworking –"

"Ha! Hardworking? When has he ever worked a day in his life?"

_Slam._ "Young lady, he is your relative as much as he is mine."

"Only by blood."

"Blood means _everything_ child. When will you learn? You are a pureblood and one of these days you must begin acting like it or you will suffer repercussions from which I cannot save you!"

"Can't or won't?"

"If you want to be branded a blood traitor –"

"I think that's much too late." A flash of gold caught Dorcas' eye. Heaving a big sigh of relief, she picked up the cold metal object. "Found it," she said, holding it up for the old bat to see. "I'm off now, don't get into too much trouble while I'm gone."

The old woman sniffed. "I might say the same to you. I grow weary of letters from your Head of House about your behaviour."

Dorcas levitated her trunk and grabbed her owl's cage firmly. "Then don't read them. Just chuck 'em in the fire like I do with those letters you send me."

"Young lady!"

"Lighten up and learn to tell a joke, will ya?"

The blonde walked out her door and hurried down the marble staircase. The sooner she was gone from the estate, the better – for the both of them. A small House Elf opened the door for Dorcas and she gave the creature a light pat on the head. Poor thing would probably have an atrocious time with Doe away from the estate. Just as she was about to pull the door closed, her great-Aunt's voice rang out from above and behind her.

"Be good and score well this year."

"I score just fine with the blokes," she called over her shoulder.

"I _meant_ –"

But Dorcas didn't find out just what she meant (though it was very obvious), because at that moment she banged the door shut and was hurrying down the lane. There was no wait for the bus to take her to the station, and after a very short walk through King's Cross, she found herself on a very noisy platform, staring at a bright scarlet steam engine train. Despite the half hour delay, Dorcas still had time before she had to be on said train, and so, heaving yet another big sigh, she dragged her trunk and owl cage to the nearest bench and quite literally collapsed upon it. Her hands immediately found her shoulder length mess of a hair and disappeared into the locks that never could decide if they were simply wavy or were aspiring to be curls.

In that moment, she wanted nothing more than to board that train in front of her. She wanted nothing more than to find her friends and put the past few months of summer holiday behind her. Of course she hadn't spent the entire summer a prisoner in her great-Aunt's wealthy estate and had been free to come and go. That being said, any time spent with "family" was far, far too much. She should have followed Black's lead and skipped out on her own. Except that he had Potter, and she had… no one. She couldn't have shown up on any of her friend's doorsteps homeless. Well, no, that wasn't true. Sarah and her parents would have been more than willing to take her into their home. But being so close to the place she had once lived with her mother…. She wasn't sure that would be such a great idea. In fact, it would have been a terrible idea.

She missed her mum.

"Doe?"

Dorcas ran her fingers the rest of the way through her hair and looked up at the young woman standing in front of her. Lily Evans' face fell into one of relief as her assumption of who had been sitting on the bench was confirmed. Her brilliantly red hair was in a haphazard plait, and, like so many others including Dorcas, there was evidence of the rain outside on her shoulders and arms. She must have just arrived, much like Doe had.

"Hullo, Ginge. I figured you'd be on the train already."

Lily shrugged. "The rain made traffic impossible."

"I can understand that."

"Any sign of the others?"

"I just got here myself," answered Dorcas with a shake of her head. She ran her hands through her hair again, trying her best to tame it. "Em's probably already on the train, though. She usually side-alongs with her dad."

Lily nodded, scanning the crowd of people. They were by no means the last people to appear on the platform, as more people all the time were popping into existence or were rushing through the barrier. Doe wondered briefly if the train's departure would be delayed at all, to account for the weather and for people being held back. It would only be fair of the officials to do so. After all, the muggle-borns would be affected more by the weather than anyone else. They couldn't just pop over.

"Oh, there's Sarah."

Dorcas followed Lily's line of sight and saw a dark haired girl scanning the crowds. Every so often, her attention would get pulled to the side and she would whip her face in that direction, her ponytail whirling about and lashing her in the face – often, right in the eye. Doe winced each time that happened. Poor girl. The blonde rose from the bench and, raising her hand high in the air, yelled out: "SOCKS!"

Sarah whipped her head to the side, earning another painful slap in the eye from her hair, searching for the source of that voice. After a few moments, she caught sight of a familiar blonde in the crowd, standing beside a certain redhead.

"There you guys are!" called Sarah as she turned her cart towards them.

"We both only just got here. What about you?" Lily asked.

"Same. Traffic from my end."

"You don't live _that_ far," said Doe.

"Yeah, well, Sophie was still tittering about." Sarah rubbed her shoulder in annoyance, moving her arm in a wide circle.

"That bat's still around? Damn, I thought she'd have had enough of you in that near-month you were staying with her."

Sarah's eyes flashed irritably and her lips pressed together to form a thin line. Doe knew that if there was one thing Sarah really didn't like talking about, it was her Aunt Sophie. The fact that Lily and Doe knew about her was one thing. Details about the bad relationship were something else. Well, "bad relationship" may have been too harsh. There was _no_ relationship between Sarah and her Aunt Sophie.

"How was France, anyway?" asked Lily as she turned towards the large scarlet train nearby.

"It was fine, I suppose."

"Oh come on Socks, so many here would give anything to visit another country without their parents!" objected Dorcas.

"It's not like I went on my own and was free to do as I pleased," pointed out Sarah. "And besides, I'd give anything to not have visited Sophie." There was a brief pause as the trio hauled their items into the train. "Anyway, how were your holidays, Lily?"

Apparently Sarah had deemed that the best thing to do right then was to change the topic of conversation.

The redhead in the lead shrugged. "Aside from the times I saw all you lot, they were pretty boring, truth be told."

Doe, who was bringing up the rear, looked past Sarah and to Lily's back. "Did you spend any time with –"

"No," the redhead quickly stated.

"Blimey, you could at least let me finish," grumbled Doe.

"Sorry," Lily sighed.

Sarah, who was concentrating on not dropping the basket holding her cat, said: "Well, on the upside, you'll be so busy after today that you won't have time to be bored."

"How is that an upside?" asked Doe.

"Hey, I'd rather be busy than bored," the dark-haired girl said with a half-assed shrug.

"I'd rather find my own ways to keep occupied than both of those options," said the blonde.

They managed to find a compartment fairly close to the front of the train and immediately claimed it as their own, hoisting their trunks onto the racks above the benches. Finding an open compartment wasn't too difficult, as many students were still on the platform with their families. Sarah and Lily's families both had recently taken to just dropping them off at the entrance to the train station as opposed to walking their daughters to the platform. Back when Doe had lived with her mum, she would ride with Sarah to King's Cross and the two of them would walk to the platform together. But then Doe's mother had fallen gravely ill and Dory had been forced to move in with her great-Aunt. There were plenty of reasons for the two of them to not get along, the greatest offence being Mrs. Malfoy's disapproval of Dory's muggle-born friends. Anytime Doe wanted to spend time with them during the holidays, she either had to lie, or sneak out. It also meant that the days of Doe and Sarah riding to King's Cross together were long over.

"Well, if you only had to pick between those two options, which would it be?" asked Sarah.

"Those are never the only two options," said Doe. "You can always find a way to entertain yourself."

"You're locked in a room with only schoolbooks. Either you study, or you're staring out the window bored," suggested Sarah.

"Then I study," answered the other girl.

"See, then you're busy!" concluded Sarah.

"No, busy implies that I _have_ to get those, usually numerous, books studied by a specific and short amount of time. I just said that I would study as a way to prevent boredom."

"No, you see –"

"Dear lord, you two are already driving me insane!" groaned Lily.

"Well what would you do, Red?" asked Doe.

"I'd _alohamora_ myself out of that room, find you both, and slap you upside the heads for being so annoying! Honestly, you're like an old married couple!"

"That's the popular theory," muttered Sarah as she settled by the window of the compartment.

The blonde girl looked quickly at her friend. Sarah didn't ever admit it, but Doe knew that what had happened over six years ago still weighed on her mind. Truthfully, she wasn't sure why. No, she knew why. Sarah held grudges like no one Dorcas had ever met. But the event had been over six years in the past. At some point, you just had to forgive and forget. At some point, it became unhealthy to hold onto such anger and hatred.

"Hullo, hullo, hullo!" chirped a cheery voice at that moment.

Alice Gordon poked her head into the compartment, a wide smile on her round face. She looked like she could be a third year still, but was actually entering her seventh and final year at the school. Trailing after her was the tall Marlene McKinnon.

"Hey Alice, hi Marlene," greeted Lily as she sat on the bench opposite Sarah and Doe.

"So? How'd you kids do on your OWLs?" asked Alice as she dragged her trunk into the space.

Alice Gordon was a rarity. She was a girl who was genuinely kind and was always giving you a friendly smile. That wasn't to imply that she was _always_ smiling, or that she was a pushover. In fact, the last person you wanted to be on the wrong side of was Alice. The girl was an aspiring Auror and if she didn't make it, no one would. She was hard working, quick, and most of all: talented. There weren't many spells that gave her trouble and OWLs had been a joke for the girl.

"Kids?" said Doe with half a snort.

"You're only a year ahead of us, Alice." Marlene reminded the brunette as the new newcomers hauled their trunks into the available spaces on the rack.

"And I'm still a kid as well. So, spit it out, how'd you all do?" she asked, brushing short, dark hair from her face as she settled beside Lily.

"Mostly Os, a few Es," said Doe with a shrug.

"Same," added Lily.

Marlene took a seat beside Doe and Sarah. "More Es than Os for me."

"I got one A," grumbled Sarah.

"In what?" asked Alice.

"History of Magic," muttered Sarah. She tried to act like it was no big deal, but in all honesty, it really grated on her that she had performed so poorly. Even in her worst classes, she had managed to get Es.

"Well, it's not like you're planning on being some sort of Historian," Alice said reassuringly.

"No one likes that class," said Marlene.

Doe turned to the other blonde and tossed her rumpled ticket stub at her head shouting, "Oi!"

"Yeah, well…" trailed Sarah.

"So how was your summer, Alice?" asked Lily.

"_Fan_tastic!" answered the girl.

"No need to hide your enthusiasm," joked Doe.

"Just ask me what I did, already, will ya?"

Lily laughed, "Alright, what'd you do?"

"Well, Miss Evans, I'm rather glad that you asked. Guess who went to not only the Quidditch World Cup, but also got to see the Potioneers _and_ the Vanishing Snidgets?"

In perfect unison, the other four girls all cried, "WHAT?"

"You don't even like Quidditch!" whined Doe in outrage.

"Yeah, but Frank got tickets from some connections in the Ministry, so, I figured, why not?" shrugged the girl.

Frank Longbottom was Alice's boyfriend of two years and had graduated from Hogwarts just a few months prior. He was _one of those guys_ who went with _one of those girls_ like Alice. Frank was the bloke every girl's parents wanted their daughter to be dating. He always had top grades, had been prefect, Head Boy, and had recently been accepted into the training program for those aspiring to be an Auror. Frank Longbottom was a well-liked guy. But that is neither here nor there.

Marlene was staring at Alice, her face nearly green with jealousy. "You got tickets to the Vanishing Snidgets?"

The Vanishing Snidgets, while not yet mainstream, were still quite popular. Much like the creature for which they were named, tickets to see the band were incredibly hard to find. Part of it had to do with the fact that their shows were announced only days, sometimes (though rarely) weeks before the actual performance. The performance in question had been announced with three weeks to spare.

"No, _I_ got a ticket to the Vanishing Snidgets," grumbled Sarah with a sour expression on her face. "If it weren't for… other circumstances, _I_ would have gone."

"Well, rest assured that it was still put to good use," said Doe as she wrapped a comforting arm around Sarah's shoulders.

"Don't worry about it Zach, I told you I'd make it up to you and I don't forget promises that easily," assured Alice.

"Yeah, well, I still wish I could have gone," lamented Sarah.

"It's not like it was their last concert," pointed out Lily.

"No," agreed Sarah, "but do you have any idea how hard it is to get a ticket for one of their shows?"

"Well, you got lucky once, maybe you can again," suggested Marlene.

Sarah half-snorted in response, "Yeah, sure. Maybe I'll just have to learn how to brew Felix Felicis."

And then concert woes were forgotten because at that moment, a light tapping sounded on the open door of their compartment. Each head in the space turned and saw a prematurely haggard boy standing in the doorway. That wasn't to suggest that he wasn't an attractive lad, because he certainly was. He had a definite boyish charm about him. His amber eyes seemed to express a mixture of kindness and quiet mischief and his smile was nothing short of comforting welcome. Sarah, however, felt nothing of the sort – only annoyance at his presence. Before she could express that, however, there was a chorus of greetings from the others in the compartment.

"Hi Remus," said Lily, rising from her seat. "Time to go already?"

"Being early never hurt," he said with a shrug.

Dorcas too got to her feet with a cheerful, "Hey Remus. Have a good holiday?"

"It was pleasant, Dorcas. How was yours?"

No one missed the scowl that crossed Doe's face at the sound of her full name. While all of Doe's friends actually called her "Dory" or "Doe" as she wished, Remus was forever the exception. In fact, he rarely used nicknames for anyone aside from a certain group of boys. Doe should have accepted that by now, but Sarah and a few others knew perfectly well why she refused to do so.

"It was… fine."

"What about you, Sarah? Nice holiday?" he asked tentatively.

"Peachy, Lupin."

A tense silence seemed to fall over the compartment. One could almost _feel_ the temperature drop as Sarah turned and looked out the window. She and the other girls had been so busy talking that she hadn't realized that the train had actually begun pulling out from the station.

"Well _my_ vacation was fantastic!" Alice suddenly chirped.

"I'm glad to hear that," the boy said in a sincere tone.

"I was just telling the others about how generous it was for Sarah here to have given me her ticket to see the Vanishing Snidgets," said the older girl.

Sarah's head whipped from the window, her eyes widening slightly and her mouth drawing in a thin line as if to clearly ask _why_ the older girl was blabbing about such things.

"Well, that's Sarah for you, a real gen–"

"Lupin, didn't you have somewhere to be?" asked the girl in question.

There was a low hiss in Sarah's ear, originating from the blonde standing beside her.

"Right," Remus said tensely. "Well, I'll see you around, then."

"Hope not," she muttered as the compartment door closed after him, Lily, and Dorcas.

"Sarah!" exclaimed Alice.

"What?"

"That was a bit… cold. Even for you," said Marlene.

"Sorry. I'm just a bit –"

"Bitchy?"

"I was shooting for something more along the lines of testy, or cranky, but fine. You want to hurl insults and swear words around like that, then fine," snapped Sarah.

Alice scooted along the bench to sit where Lily had been moments earlier. "I can understand you holding grudges, Zach, it's just… Remus…."

Marlene finished. "Doesn't really deserve such rough treatment."

"And why not?"

"Well, what was it that he really _did_ last year?" Marlene couldn't help but ask.

"He didn't do those things to Rivers, or to Snape," Alice reminded the younger girl.

"No, he just stood by and _let them happen_," Sarah argued. "He could have put a stop to any of those things at any time he wanted. But he didn't."

"But Zach," began Alice. "You know what Potter and Black are like – even the teachers have a hard time controlling them on occasion!"

"So that excuses Lupin from not taking a stand? That just _allows_ him to step aside and tolerate bullying?"

"Sarah…"

"No. Doe used to argue with me about this all the time, just with the table reversed. He's off to a prefect meeting, yeah? Well, it's about time that people realized just what a pathetic excuse of a prefect he really is!"

Sarah quickly rose from her seat and crossed the compartment in three steps, yanking the door open.

"Sarah!"

"I'm going to the loo, is that alright?" she snapped. "Do you need to walk me and hold my hand?"

She didn't wait for a response before she exited the space, the door sliding shut of its own accord behind her.

* * *

Lily was quiet for a while after she had left the compartment with her fellow Gryffindor prefect and the Ravenclaw prefect. From the corner of her eye, she could see the boy rub the back of his neck in what she assumed to be a fairly nervous manner. Finally, he broke the silence.

"That was a bit…"

"Bracing?" she asked.

"I guess you could call it that," he answered.

"She uh, had a rough summer, from what I gather," the redhead offered.

"Sure," simply was his reply. Was it the redhead's imagination, or did he sound a bit… bitter?

"Well, you heard part of it, she had to give up her ticket to the concert of the group she loves."

"What a sacrifice."

Doe cut in. "Because she had to go to France."

"Real torture, there."

"For nearly a month," added Lily.

"Absolutely dreadful."

Lily took a moment to glance at Remus, but his face was even – it betrayed no emotion. His voice, on the other hand, told a different story. What was more, it wasn't quite like him. He seemed _too_ curt and _too_ sarcastic. That told Lily one thing – he was trying to hide his thoughts and emotions. This wasn't really anything new. He was always so careful to keep everyone at bay. Well, everyone except for three boys in his year. To everyone else, the true person, the real Remus John Lupin, that was on a strictly "need to know" basis. But this time, there was just a tad too much effort in keeping his voice curt.

He was disappointed. Probably a bit stung by what had just happened.

"I guess we're not helping the situation," Dorcas said.

"Well, it could have been worse," he said in an attempt of fake optimism.

"Yeah, she could have decided that she didn't care in the slightest about cursing a prefect in the presence of a couple of others," Lily suggested.

"That's not really her style," replied Remus. "Now as for some ex-friends of hers…"

Doe shook her head. "They wouldn't even think twice about it. It's like they've never heard of consequences."

"Oh, they've heard of them," Remus countered. "They just ignore that they exist until after the fact."

"And then they scramble to find any way to get out of them," said Lily.

"Precisely."

The group reached the head car before anymore could be said about the topic and upon arriving found that sure enough, they were the earliest prefects. Only the Head Boy and Girl were occupying the space when the group arrived. However, such didn't remain the case for long – more prefects came streaming in only moments later. Lily was careful not to meet the eye of a certain Slytherin prefect and luckily enough, he sat in a part of the compartment where Lily was sure not to accidentally make eye contact with him by virtue of the fact that she would be looking at the Head Boy and Girl during the meeting, who would be at the opposite end of the compartment.

"Is that everyone?" asked the Head Boy, a tall and lanky bloke by the name of Jack Watson.

"Not quite," a Ravenclaw named Sam Rivers chipped in. "We're missing that Hufflepuff – Maggie."

"Right," Jack sighed.

"And here starts another year of waiting the obligatory five minutes for her to show up," grumbled Abigail Johnson, the Head Girl.

But they only had to wait two before a dark skinned girl with very curly hair floated into the car.

"Sorry!" she breathed as she collapsed into the space beside Dorcas.

Jack nodded as he began shuffling some papers. "Right. Well, now that we're all _finally_ here…"

"We've been informed that there's been a bit of a shift in some rules," Abigail announced.

"Shift?" asked Remus.

"There's going to be a, er… curfew, of sorts," supplied Jack. At this announcement, a number of grumbles and mutterings travelled through the compartment. Some were complaining because of the decreased levels of freedom. Some were complaining because they enjoyed night-time trips to the kitchens (which they weren't really supposed to know the location of anyway). Some were complaining because they liked spending as much time in the library as possible. The Head Boy ignored these and made sure to talk above them. "While Abigail goes over all of that, I'm going to pass around the sign-up sheet for patrol times. List three alternative sets of four, two-hour blocks, and Abigail and I will work on schedules."

Abigail, however, seemed to have no intention of covering the curfew just yet. "For tonight, your main task is to show the first years where your common rooms are. You will also tell the other students in your year what the password is, Ravenclaw being the obvious exception."

Lily inadvertently let her mind wander as the Head Boy and Girl filled in the new prefects about the major responsibilities. She'd known most of this even before having received the honour of being a prefect last year. Then again, most of the other students likely did as well, so in all likelihood she wasn't the only person in the compartment with a roaming consciousness. In fact, she would bet heaps of galleons that Doe had started wandering off before Lily had.

The first stop for Lily's thoughts was what had transpired in the compartment. She had never been a fan of the so-called "Marauders", but to see her friend acting as she had towards one…. The redhead had thought, assumed, even, that the summer holiday would cool her temper. Lily had apparently been foolish enough to think that the months spent away from the boys would soothe the grudge Sarah was holding. Sure, things wouldn't be immediately "okay" between the four boys and the girl, but she'd been counting on some improvement. Instead, Sarah was as cold and distant as ever, and not even with the worst offenders of the group. Lily had found fault with Remus on occasion (how could she not?) but he wasn't a terrible bloke. She did know Sarah to be a bit… rash with judgments and stubborn with grudges, but this was something new.

A whisper of, "Lily," in her ear pulled her from her distressing thoughts. Remus was trying to pass the schedule to her. For how long he had been unsuccessfully trying, she wasn't completely sure.

"Sorry," she muttered as she took it from him.

Meanwhile, the Head Girl had finally arrived at what everyone had been waiting for: she was explaining the after hours policy and the purpose of the patrols that the prefects and Heads performed every night.

"Everyone below sixth year is to be in their common room or dormitory after 9pm each night," Abigail was explaining. "Sixth and seventh years have until 11pm."

"That's the same as it's always been," said a fifth year Ravenclaw.

"You're alluding, I suppose, to the curfew that was mentioned," smiled Jack.

"Well, yeah," the girl replied.

"No one of any year is permitted to be on the grounds after sundown," explained Abigail. "You can still walk about the castle – to and from the library, for instance – but going outside the castle walls is prohibited after that time."

A heavy round of silence followed this announcement.

"It's just a precautionary measure," Jack said after a few moments. "Mostly to make the parents feel assured that Professor Dumbledore and the staff are taking this war seriously."

"Right, because he's just been laughing about it so far," quipped Sam with a roll of his eyes.

"Yes, well…"

"Can we expect more of these increased security measures to be implemented?" asked Severus Snape.

Jack nodded solemnly. "Yes, you can."

"This year, a team of Aurors and Hit Wizards has been stationed in the castle," announced Abigail. Jack nodded again, and added, "In fact, there are a few on the train."

"Do they really expect us to be attacked on the bloody _train_?" asked the fifth-year Slytherin prefect, Charlotte Greengrass.

"I believe the proper phrase is '_better safe than sorry',_ Greengrass," said Dorcas.

"No one asked you, Meadowes."

"But she has a point," said Jack, his voice a bit louder than before.

"Regardless," Abigail said even louder, bringing mumblings to a halt, "that's just the way it is. I think your parents will sleep easier knowing their children's safety is a priority to the people in charge. Now, next point."

"Alright, moving on to more basics," said Jack, bringing the discussion to a halt. Many of the minds in the room, however, couldn't help but linger on the topic, especially the mind of the sixth year Slytherin prefect.

Severus Snape shot several short glances at Lupin. The fact that boy was allowed to sit in this compartment was a travesty and an abuse of the whole system. That Gryffindor didn't deserve his title. He didn't deserve anything he got. Snape had learned much in the last term. Nothing, though, was quite what he was suspecting in that, sadly, he couldn't use his knowledge against the "prefect". The prefect's friends, however…

This new curfew could be quite… advantageous. Given Lupin's… circumstances, he would be somewhat exempt from the new rule (which was absurd, in _so_ many ways). His friends, however, would not be. It was no great secret or mystery how his two closest friends had known about that tunnel that lead to the abomination off school grounds. Professor Dumbledore may be willing to give them the benefit of the doubt under most situations, but if Snape could finally just prove without a doubt that those two held absolutely no regard for the rules or safety of themselves or others… if he could prove that they were regularly sneaking out of bounds, oh what a day that would be.

What a day, indeed.

* * *

"Is it just me or is that meeting taking longer than it did last year?" moaned Sirius.

"Dunno, mate, I haven't been checking my watch every five seconds," sighed James.

"I don't remember. But I think it might be," mused Peter.

The three teens had already played a round of Exploding Snap and purchased far too many sweets from the trolley by this time. Sirius was stretched out on one of the benches, his head tilted to stare out of the window upside down. James and Peter, on the other hand, were engrossed in a round of wizard's chess. Sirius had already agreed to play the winner (it was going to be James of course. Petey never was much of a challenge), but that left nothing else for him to do in the meantime. Not too long ago he would have spent the time waiting by heckling the two boys with another non-player. But this time there were no other non-players and it just wasn't the same when you were the only one heckling. Some of the humour was lost and it usually just became flat-out annoying.

Sirius sighed.

"Poor Moony," he said at length.

"Nah, I'm sure he's used to it by now," offered James as a hand lifted to his hair, rumpling it vigorously.

"Yeah, I don't think he really minds the prefect stuff all that much," suggested Peter.

"Bishop to F8," said James. There was a haughty cockiness in his voice – he must have been on his way to a decided victory. Suddenly, however, "WAIT, NO!"

But whatever had happened, James' exclamation must have been too late because Peter erupted in a round of loud laughing and cheering. Sirius craned his neck to glance at the scene. On the opposite bench, James was holding his head in his hands and Peter was still celebrating loudly.

"Don't tell me Wormtail's got the best of you!"

"I don't know how it happened!" shouted James. "I had that one! I had it!"

"Blimey, James Potter, losing in wizard's chess to Peter Pettigrew…. Now I've seen everything."

"Stop acting so surprised, will ya?" complained the other boy.

"Peter, even you were surprised! Why else would you have been cheering so loud?" asked James.

"Well yeah, but Padfoot's being excessive! I'm not a complete moron."

"No one said you were," James countered.

"Yeah, you don't have to be stupid to be awful at wizard's chess," reasoned Sirius. "I mean, Kit…"

"Yeah, she's dreadful at it," finished James when Sirius hadn't continued.

"And competitive," grumbled Peter as he began cleaning off the chessboard and putting pieces away. He must not have felt like playing another round just then. That was fine with Sirius.

"Kit playing wizard's chess… that was always good for some fireworks," laughed James.

"Prongs, past tense," whined Peter.

"Oh come on, Wormtail, it's been months."

Peter closed the lid of the set. "But you never know, maybe the summer holiday…"

"Did she send either of you any letters?"

"No…"

"Nothing."

"Exactly," said James as he leaned back in his seat. "She didn't send me any, and I didn't expect her to."

Sirius sat up and brushed his hair out of his eyes, "Who knows, Wormtail, maybe school starting back up will change things."

"Right," snorted James. "She'll come around just about when Evans does."

"Glad to see someone has learned sarcasm."

"I'm sorry if I don't share your level of optimism," replied James as he swung his legs onto the bench and folded his hands behind his head.

Peter finished putting away the chess set and grabbed a chocolate frog. This package, though, was sealed a bit tighter than the others. As he worked on getting it open, his tongue peeked from the corner of his mouth.

"So you've really given up on Evans, eh?" asked Sirius after a spell.

"Is that so surprising?" asked the other boy. His hair was fantastically messy that day and made everything he said or did lack seriousness more than usual.

"After what, two, three years of fixation? Yeah. Pretty surprising," answered Sirius.

James snorted, "Would rather go out with the giant squid than me, what a joke."

"Dunno, mate. I would probably pick the giant squid too," said Peter.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Wormtail."

"Are you saying you _want_ Petey to want to date you?" asked Sirius.

"When you put it that way…"

"Either way, it's probably for the best," said Sirius.

"Evans is pretty and all," said Peter as he finally got the package to open just by a tiny bit. "But she can be such a hardass."

"So? What's life or love without a little challenge?"

"A little? She yelled at you just for breathing that one time," laughed Sirius.

"It's true," said Peter, looking up from the frog package. This turned out to be a crucial mistake, because that was when the rest of the package finally gave way, allowing the enchanted frog space and time to leap out of the package and onto the seat beside Peter. Immediately, it hopped to the floor, the other bench, the window…. Both of the other boys tried to catch it for their friend, but to no avail. James nearly had it – he had just dived through the open compartment door – when a foot appeared, crushing the confection beneath the sole of the shoe and nearly catching a few of James' fingers as well. The foot immediately jumped back, but the damage was already done – any sane person would declare the food lost. "Aw man!" Peter whined.

"Hey! Watch where you're –" James started to protest, until he met the large grey eyes of his former friend, "…going…."

Sarah's eyes narrowed and her foot stepped back onto the confection, rotating fiercely a few times to grind it into the carpet. When her foot stilled, she met James' stare once again, an overly sweet and obviously mocking expression on her face. "Maybe you lot should just be more careful, or keep your door closed."

"Right," he said as he stood up from the ground.

She shot a quick look into the compartment before continuing on her way to return to her friends. She had returned to their compartment just to find out that she had missed the trolley. She'd been able to mooch off of them for a bit, but found herself still a bit peckish and owing the girls a few treats. Now, though, she wasn't so sure she was hungry. Another reason for the quick departure was of course, because she just didn't want to spend more time with the boys than was required. Those dreams were quickly dashed. She had barely made it the length of three compartments when James' voice sounded from just behind her.

"Sarah, wait up."

With grudging accommodation, the dark haired girl stopped and turned to face the Marauder. "What is it, Potter? If this has anything to do with Evans…"

"It doesn't. That's over and done with," he assured her.

Sarah let out a short scoffing sound, her eyes rolling once. "You're joking, right? You've been chasing after her for nearly three years."

"You know, Sirius said something similar."

"Just get to the point," she snapped. Maybe this would be harder than he thought.

"How was your holiday?"

"Fantastic. Wonderful. Best holiday ever," she said, turning to begin walking again. She lengthened and quickened her strides beyond their norm.

"Real convincing, that."

"Well, my holiday isn't _exactly_ any of your business, now is it?" she asked.

James lengthened his stride as well, though with much more success due to the sheer length of his legs. Soon, he was squeezing past her in the narrow walkway and turning to face her so that he was walking backwards. This slowed them both down considerably.

"Come on, Kit."

"Potter –"

"Stop calling me that. You sound like Evans."

"And that's a bad thing?"

"If you want people thinking you're a hardass, yeah!" he explained, coming to a stop and blocking her path.

"Only you, Black, and Pettigrew think that!" she protested, trying to find a way past him, but failing. With a small sigh of exasperation, she leaned against the glass of the train, her arms crossed.

"I'm sure there are plenty of others in the castle," he said.

"Like who?" she asked.

"Well, uhm… oh! Padfoot's brother!"

"Slytherins don't count. They hate everyone."

"Come on, Kit!"

"Stop calling me that."

"You stop calling me Potter, and I'll stop calling you Kit."

For the first time since the short chocolate confrontation, Sarah met James' eye. In that moment, he knew that she was about to cave. Old habits died hard. A victorious smirk twitched at the corner of his lips, but he forced it away, though just barely.

"What do you want, _James_?"

"What makes you think I want anything, Kit?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" she cursed, standing straight and trying to slip past him. She nearly made it, too, until his arm shot through the space, effectively cutting off her escape. Her eyes narrowed and once again met his. "Move."

James smirked. "You didn't say the magic word."

"If you don't move, I'll make you."

"How? Can't do magic yet."

"James Alexander Potter, I will kick you so hard in the knackers, your _grandfather_ will become sterile and you'll have never been born."

"But then I won't be around to be kicked in the knackers and he won't become sterile and I _will_ exist!"

"Have I told you recently how truly infuriating you are?"

"No, because you didn't answer any of my letters over holiday."

One of Sarah's arms flung to the side, gesturing angrily as she exclaimed, "You wrote to me about the completely _disgusting_ things you saw a homeless person doing on the beach!"

"Hey, Sirius found those hilarious!"

"Well I'm not Sirius!"

"No, you used to not be serious, now you have that stick up your arse."

"Potter, that joke stopped being funny in first year."

"The one about the stick?"

"You're about two seconds away from needing a testicle retrieval operation."

"Spending so much time with Evans has really made you hostile, you know?"

"For the love of –"

"They miss you."

She stopped short, her face quickly rearranging into a look of confusion, shock, and astonishment.

"Is that what this is all about? So you can tell me that they _miss_ me?"

"Well, not completely, but yeah."

"And what's this about 'they'? Not you?"

"Of course I do! Come on, then."

James was half expecting another hostile reply or insult.

"What's done is done," she said. "You lot made your choices. I made mine. I would appreciate it, if you would respect that, James."

"I do!"

"Really? Is that why you're following me through the train, blocking my path, and trying to guilt me into being friends with you all again? Because you just _respect_ me and my decisions so much?"

"I can respect your decisions without having to agree with them! It's been _months_!"

"And I'm still angry!"

"I'm pretty sure we apologized."

"Only because you'd gotten what you wanted," she countered.

"We didn't mean for it to get so far out of hand!"

"Which time? With Sam, that third year, or with Snape?"

"Er…"

"Exactly! It _always_ gets too far out of hand, regardless of whether or not you intend it, and you _know_ it!"

"It's gotten to far out of hand with you too! You've let things go too far!"

"This isn't about me!"

"Maybe it should be!"

"God, will you just _grow up_?" she demanded, pushing past him once and for all and beginning to storm down the train.

"I need to grow up?" he called after her, "Who's the one yelling and then storming off?"

"Sod off, Potter!"

"Really mature, Zachary! Maybe you're the one who needs to grow up!"

"Get stuffed!"

"Maybe YOU should!"

She gave a rude hand gesture over her shoulder, and with a disgruntled groan, James rumpled his hair and turned his back on her. Honestly, she could be so stubborn sometimes. She had definitely been spending far too much time around Evans, that was the best – no, the _only_ – explanation.

He walked back through the train, surprised that he and Sarah had walked so far during their little exchange. A few more times during the trek, his hand found his hair, rumpling it further. When the habit had first started midway in his fourth year, he had purposefully done it to remind people of his major claim to fame. The Gryffindor Quidditch team had been brilliant that year, winning all of their matches by landslides. James certainly received a large amount of praise, but contrary to what Evans might have said, he was quite charitable and was more than willing to share the attention (sometimes). In fact, two of the other people with whom he frequented the hallways were also receiving praise for their parts in the games and it was infectious. It was in those corridors that his already over-inflated head grew larger. It was in those corridors where he began to truly feel invincible. After all, his little group of friends were garnering attention for their abilities on the Quidditch field, admirers were tripping over themselves just to say hello (and to maybe get a date to Hogsmeade or to a Quidditch match), and even the teachers were telling them 'well done'. It seemed like the group could do no wrong, and in a way, James wasn't too far off.

But there are always two sides to every coin. For every good thing, there must be a bad thing to balance it out, to even the score. It was in those corridors, as he began feeling invincible, and as he began creating his habit, that the distance between the four boys and Sarah Zachary began to make itself known.

These days, over a year later, mussing up his hair was just that – a habit. He didn't even think about it anymore, when his hand found his hair, and he doubted if anyone else did either. The only exception, the only time someone had called him out on it, had been just a few months prior, on the day of the Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL.

_'Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you've just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can – I'm surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK.'_

"Birds, honestly…" he muttered.

James re-entered the compartment he'd been sharing with his friends to discover a new addition.

"Well aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" asked Remus.

"I take it by your face that you didn't make any significant progress, " said Sirius.

James gave Sirius a look as he dropped onto the empty seat beside Remus and across from Sirius. "Since when were you so astute?"

"You're insults are most appreciated, mate."

"We also heard some of it," said Peter. "Your voices sort of… carry."

"She's stubborn as ever," James lamented.

Remus was working on the package to one of those chocolate frogs. "According to Lily and Dorcas, she had a 'rough' holiday."

"Right, no one here knows what that would be like," said Sirius.

"Did she say anything else?" asked Peter.

"Alice was saying something about getting a concert ticket from Sarah, and Lily mentioned that Sarah was in France for a while. Nearly a month."

"What does Sarah have against France?" asked Peter.

"I'm more interested in that she was there for so long. Her parents aren't exactly rolling in the money needed for a trip like that," mused Sirius.

"Regardless, you'd think that your family taking you to France would make you _happy_, not ready to insult former mates and threaten them with testicular damage," said James.

"Unless she's recovering from the sharp reality of being back to the status-quo," offered Peter.

But all was soon left behind them as the conversation jumped ship to the prefect's meeting and the news of restricted night wanderings.

"I wonder how they're going to enforce that one," mused Sirius.

"Dunno, that wasn't explained too well in the meeting. Maybe that will be left up to the Aurors and Hit Wizards stationed at the castle this year." Remus suggested as he picked up another box containing a chocolate frog.

"Well, it'll be damned inconvenient," said James.

"It doesn't have to be, as long as we're outside before the sun sets," Sirius pointed out.

"That won't be too different from what we've been doing so far," said Peter.

"Except that it's more likely that we could be seen," said James.

"And you're so worried about getting into trouble? You're that worried about getting caught?" asked Sirius.

"After a certain prank, yes."

A very quick chill settled across the compartment at this reminder. More than six months after the events being hinted at, the reminder was a sure way to kill any conversation for several moments. To this day, Remus and Sirius always carried an odd formality when they spoke to each other. It wasn't a very obvious thing, but the other two Marauders could sense it, as could a few other very observant people. The two weren't formal in that they would call each other by surname only, or would use manners when they weren't really needed. It was more in that they never really made eye contact anymore. It was more in that they never really sat directly next to or across from each other. It was more in that any time they were left alone these days, they rarely spoke, or would only do so about very trite topics. Sirius didn't know what else he could do but to give the other Marauder more time. Remus didn't know what else to do but to just wait for the wounds to heal.

"We'll figure it out," said Peter after several heartbeats. "We could use the cloak?"

"Yeah," said Sirius, going with this thought, "Wormtail can change in the dormitory to make more room under the cloak, and then we sneak out to the grounds and business as usual."

"Should we be in the tunnel before the sun sets?" asked Peter.

"Possibly," said James, "except…"

"A certain git could see the tree freeze, now that he uh… knows to look for it," finished Sirius.

"I don't suppose I could convince you lot to not bother and to not put yourselves in danger of getting caught?" asked Remus.

"Not by a long shot, Moony."

* * *

"A curfew?" asked Sarah. She had just rejoined her friends in their compartment, which included the newly returned Lily and Dorcas. It was getting fairly dark outside the train, but they were still a good ways off from the station in Hogsmeade.

"Yup, no wandering the grounds after dark," said Lily.

"Well, it could be worse," contributed Doe.

"Yeah…" trailed Sarah.

"So what took you so long, Socks?"

"What?" Sarah's thoughts were thoroughly absorbed by the news of the curfew. Why, though, was beyond Doe's understanding.

"You keep disappearing. At least Ginge and I have an excuse."

"I was here nearly the whole time you guys were in the meeting. I guess you just missed me."

"Dory and I have been back for a while," said Lily.

"I ran into some people," Sarah said with her voice apparently stuck in that same distracted tone. All at once she stood from her seat and reached high to unclasp her trunk. In the cage next to Sarah's things, Prometheus the Northern Hawk Owl gave a low hoot. He was apparently as bored and anxious as the girls were.

"Right, we'll be there soon, won't we?" asked Alice as she mimicked Sarah's decision to find her uniform. Lily and Doe had already changed.

"Not really," said Marlene, looking up from her book. She too had yet to change, but made no move for her trunk. "Terrible weather. We're probably an hour behind of where we should be by now."

"Who?" Dorcas asked.

"What?" Sarah said, looking over her shoulder at the blonde for a brief moment.

"Who kept you detained for so long?"

"Well…"

"Come on," griped Lily.

"Potter and then Sam."

"Sam? How's he doing?" asked Doe. "I saw him in the prefect meeting, but we didn't talk."

"He's fine. He had a nice holiday on the coast."

Alice walked over to the compartment door to pull down the blind. "Is that all you two talked about?"

"He obviously asked about my OWL results, but yeah, a lot of it was just talking about our holidays," said Sarah as she began swapping articles of clothing on her body for those sitting in wait on the bench.

"What did Potter want?" asked Dorcas.

Sarah rolled her eyes, "The usual."

"Winning back your friendship?" asked Lily.

"That was likely the _intent_," Sarah grumbled.

"So it just turned into another battle of insults?" asked Alice.

Sarah nodded as she pulled on the grey socks of her uniform.

"Who won?" asked Dorcas with a little too much enthusiasm.

"Dorcas!" Lily admonished.

"Oy!"

Doe really, really hated it when someone used her full name. There existed a very small handful of people who continued to use it, and for the most part it was because Doe couldn't break them of the habit. In every case, it was either because the person refused to use a nickname at all, or because it would be disrespectful of her to correct them.

"I don't particularly care for Potter, but that doesn't mean that I advocate getting into insulting matches with him," said the redhead.

"Well speak for yourself. Maybe Potter _needs_ to be insulted more often," said the blonde.

"Even so, why does it have to be a competition?"

"Because it just _does_. Besides, Potter will just make it into one, regardless of whether or not you want that. That's what he does."

The girls in the compartment mulled this over for a moment before Sarah regretfully announced: "I'm pretty sure James won."

"A pity."

"_Doe_."

At that moment, a sigh cut through the conversation. "Terrible weather," Marlene said.

Dorcas rolled her eyes as she began opening a cauldron cake. "Marlene, that's about the fifth time today you've remarked upon the weather."

"Because it's so atrocious that just commenting on it once or twice doesn't do it justice," the blonde said.

"Yes, well, commenting on it won't exactly force it to get any better."

"A girl can dream."

Sarah sighed and sat back on her bench. Her tie and jumper could wait. "Oi, Doe, pass me one of those cauldron cakes. I'm famished."

"Last one," Doe said as she tossed a cake across the compartment.

Marlene shut her book. "Weren't you supposed to stop by the trolley while you were gone, Sarah?"

The girl shrugged. "Something like that."

"You're such a prat," Alice said.

Dorcas laughed, "Tell us something we don't know."

"With the train being so delayed, we'll all probably need another trip to the trolley," said Alice, also forgoing the tie and jumper for the time being.

"I can support that," said Marlene.

"Amen," added Lily.

Marlene was about to tell Sarah to go find the trolley (after all, she was supposed to have been the one doing it in the first place), when the dark-haired girl excitably offered a different solution.

"Nose goes," Sarah announced, immediately touching the tip of her nose. The other girls rapidly followed suit, but in the end, it was Dorcas who was last. "Damn it," she swore, holding out her hand. "Ante up, first, skirts. This isn't some free ride."

With coins in hand and a quick farewell wave (and the raising of the blind), Doe was out the door and walking along the train in search of the food trolley. There weren't too many people out and about for the time being. In compartment after compartment, students were playing games and chatting through the ride. She sped up as she passed the compartment holding the infamous Marauders, but needn't have bothered. The boys were thoroughly absorbed in a game of Exploding Snap and weren't paying any attention at all to who walked past the compartment. Whatever James may have been thinking or feeling after his run-in with Sarah, it seemed to be far from his mind just then. All of the boys seemed in good cheer, from the brief flash Doe received as she hurried past. She was just opening the door to enter the next car and in doing so had revealed someone right on the other side. Doe jumped in surprise, a short shout sounding from her.

"Whoa, there!" the man shouted in surprise as well. He was fairly tall and thin, with dark curly hair and green eyes. Whoever he was, he couldn't have been more than 25.

"Sorry!" Doe shouted, stepping back. "I wasn't expecting anyone on the other side."

"No, no, it's all right. 'Can't say I was expecting anyone either," he said. His eyes travelled over Doe's form very briefly, making her take a step back. His gaze wasn't in any way lecherous, but all the same, it made Dorcas pause. He seemed to be sizing her up, but in what way, and for what reason?

"Yes, well, again, sorry." Dorcas took a small step to get by him, but he didn't move, and she was brought back to a halt.

"So, Prefect, are you?" he asked, apparently trying to make some form of small talk.

"Wha-?" She'd forgotten that she was wearing her badge. "Oh, yes, I am."

He glanced over his shoulder. "Doing rounds? I thought I saw other Prefects just now."

Doe shook her head, making her messy hair bounce back and forth above her shoulders. "No, I'm not. I'm just looking for the trolley."

"I just saw it in this last car."

"Oh, great. I was worried I'd be walking the entire train."

"Well, it wouldn't be terribly far."

"No, but I'm supposed to be getting snacks," she said. '_Well of course you are, you _idiot_,'_ she couldn't help but think to herself. A blush began to colour her cheeks. "Not just for me, that is. For my mates. I have mates. Waiting for me."

If the floor of the train under her feet decided to open up just then and allow her to fall onto the tracks below, that would be just fine with her. But of course, it didn't, and her face continued to burn hotter as the seconds ticked by. She never got tongue-tied. Never. Especially not in front of a bloke. That was for the other girls, but not for her. She didn't have time for any of that nonsense. Besides, she already fancied someone and she never got nervous in front of _him_. What in the world was so special about the man standing before her?

"Couldn't use an extra pair of hands, could you?" As embarrassed as Dorcas felt (and probably looked) in that moment, this bloke didn't seem to notice or care. Curious, seeing as the object of Doe's fancy never noticed that sort of thing either. Not that she had ever given him an opportunity to do so.

"Uh…." He certainly was a friendly bloke, wasn't he? Not bad looking, but definitely friendly. Doe wasn't sure how to react to his offer.

"Oh, manners, right. I'm Shale, by the way. Auror."

So _this_ was one of the people responsible for helping keep the students safe this year. If they were all young and fit like this one, then Dorcas certainly wouldn't be complaining.

"Meadowes. Prefect." There, that felt more natural. A quick introduction, and then they could part ways and she could finish her task.

Shale nodded. "Meadowes; a good name. Old name." This made Doe pause for the briefest of moments. What did he mean by that? Sure, Meadowes was a fairly old line of witches and wizards, but why would that matter to him? He was a Dark Wizard catcher, and right now, the darkest wizard of arguably all time was obsessed with blood purity. Should this bloke really be making comments like the one he'd just made? In other words, should he really be associating with those people? "What year are you, Ms. Meadowes?" he asked as he turned to go back into the car from which he had just been emerging.

Dorcas followed behind him by about a pace. "Sixth."

"Really? That's all?" he asked, his tone light. He certainly seemed friendly enough….

"Well, how old are _you_ then?" she countered.

"Don't you know that you should never ask an Auror his or her age?"

"Don't people usually say that about ladies?"

"Fair enough. 25."

Damn, she was good at these guessing games, she thought to herself. And apparently, his statement was correct – just ahead she saw the trolley and the witch who pushed it along the length of the train.

"Really? That's all?" she joked, earning a chuckle from Shale.

"So what are your goals, Miss?"

Doe wasted no time. "To live a long and happy life, have a great career, marry a good bloke who spoils me, pop out a bunch of little witches and wizards, ride on the back of a dragon, and someday get an Order of Merlin. First Class is preferred, but I'd take a lesser one at that."

"Well, it's good to see someone with such modest, healthy objectives. What kind of career are you after?"

"Journalist."

"Not thinking of the Ministry at all?" he asked as they got in the queue for the trolley. Apparently, Doe and her mates weren't the only ones with the idea to whet their appetites before the feast – the train was likely still another hour away from Hogsmeade station, and then they had not only the trip from the station to the school, but there was the Sorting Ceremony as well.

"I was," she said distractedly. She was creating a mental list of what she needed to get and how much. "Auror or Hit Wizard, actually."

"What changed?"

"OWLs."

Shale nodded knowingly, something that slightly grated on Doe, but the reasons for why it should weren't clear at that time. "That's a stumbling block for many students."

"Oh, I got the grades," she bragged, eager to set him straight. Condescension. That was it. That's what was apparent in his little nod, which grated on her. "I just realized during those exams how much I hated certain classes."

"A shame. With all this nonsense, we could use more people on our side."

"I don't have to be in the Ministry to fight the evils of the age." A few students left the queue and both Dorcas and this Shale bloke were able to step forward a few paces.

"True."

"If you weren't in the Ministry, what would you have done?" she asked.

Shale shrugged. "Might have worked in a pub."

Dorcas raised her eyebrows as if to ask: "_a pub, really?"_ Despite his youth or his ability to smooth-talk, Dorcas just couldn't see this man behind a bar, mixing and serving drinks. She imagined that would rather be like seeing McGonagall doing Hagrid's job.

"I have great people skills," he explained to her unasked question. "…Or so I've been told. What kind of journalism are you talking about, anyway? Surely not for something like _Witch Weekly_?"

"Merlin, no." But before she could elaborate, it was her turn at the trolley. "Hullo again," she greeted the witch. "Uhm, let's see now, why not five Chocolate Frogs, five packs of Chocolate Cauldrons, five Pumpkin Pasties, five Jelly Slugs, two packages of Strawberry Softs, and two bars of that Honeyduke's please?"

"Quite a few mates there," Shale commented as money and goods were exchanged.

"Five hungry and growing witches, an estimated forty-five minutes left until we get to Hogsmeade, and _then_ about another hour and fifteen minutes until the actual feast. Not to mention, all we've had to eat since eleven this morning is sugar. Some of us are likely crashing and may just die or commit murder before we actually get to the castle. We'll take what we can get."

He reached over and picked up half of the load to carry for Dorcas. "Fair enough."

"Thank you." The pair began to make their way back to the car from which Doe had originated.

"Again, with that kind of reasoning, why not Magical Law Enforcement?" he pressed. "Whatever classes it was you didn't much like, I'm sure it can't be all that bad."

"Because with that reasoning I could do some good investigating and reporting."

"You've almost got me persuaded."

"Almost?"

"All good arguments, but if you like investigating…."

He was pushing rather hard. It was rather flattering, if Doe were being honest, but being an Auror or a Hit Wizard was one of Sarah's goals and dreams, not Doe's. She told Shale as such and he seemed to mull that over for the briefest of moments.

"Well, I'll have to take what I can get, I suppose."

"So that's why the Aurors and Hit Wizards have come to Hogwarts? To recruit?"

The two were passing between the two cars now. "Well, not exactly. You see there is this pesky wizard with some rather irritating followers…"

"Mm, yes, I imagine he's been a bit of an annoyance."

"Quite."

"Do you lot really expect them to attack the train or the school?"

"You can never be too careful."

Dorcas nodded. _Honestly_, she thought to herself, _those people would have to be absolutely mental to do either of those things. Sure, the majority of them seemed pretty off their cracker as it was, but to do something like that… to go against Dumbledore so blatantly… the day the school was truly in danger from him would be an utterly terrifying day for the world indeed. If Hogwarts was no longer safe, that was as good as the end of everything._

"I guess it's rather reassuring that everyone is taking the safety of the students so seriously," she said.

"I'm sure plenty of parents would sleep soundly with the knowledge."

"Do the parents know?"

"I said 'would sleep soundly' not '_will_ sleep soundly'. But some do. It hasn't been widely publicized."

"The Death Eaters may take it as a challenge."

"Some think that, yes." He seemed about to say something else, but Dorcas cut in just then with: "Yes, I'm sure I want to pursue journalism; this is my compartment, so I need my stuff; and Herbology."

"Er… Herbology?" he asked, transferring the goods to the pile in Doe's arms. Once his hands were free, he slid the door of the compartment open for her.

"The class I can't stand. I'm atrocious with plants," she said as she stepped inside. "Good day, Shale."

The Auror nodded to Doe and the other girls in the compartment and then walked away, letting the compartment door slide shut on its own. Doe turned to the other girls to see them all staring through the glass of the door. Alice was the first to tear away and address Dorcas.

"One: thank goodness you're here because I'm suddenly beyond famished. Two: who was that and where can I get one?"

Dorcas sat down in a space beside Lily, who was beside Marlene. She was across from Sarah and Alice was at the diagonal. She immediately began distributing the goods. "One: you're welcome and I suspected as much. Two: that was one of the Aurors assigned to guard Hogwarts, his name is Shale, and you've already got one named Frank."

"You guys seemed rather… enthralled," said Marlene as she caught a pasty and tore open the package.

"He kept trying to convince me that I'm Auror material. Also, he's 25. Much too old."

"Not terribly," said Sarah. "But I can't begrudge his conversation topic. I don't see why you're so against that line of work."

"Big word for you, Zach," Lily teased as she tore open a package of Strawberry Softs. Sarah made a face at the redhead.

Dorcas threw a pack of Cauldron Cakes at Sarah as she reminded her, "Herbology, love."

Sarah ripped the pack open with a shrug. "So? I'm daft at Potions, but you don't see that stopping me."

"You're unlucky with Potions. I hate Herbology. There's a difference."

"I hate Herbology."

"No, again, you're unlucky. You still love it and you know it."

Sarah sighed as she stuffed an entire chocolate cauldron in her mouth. "Ith troo. Bof 'v 'em."

"Ew, Zach," grimaced Lily.

Sarah swallowed heavily. "Sorry. I thought I'd die if I didn't get something in there."

With the topic of classes back in the conversation, the five girls fell into discussion about which classes they were planning on continuing for their last two years at the school. As far as they knew, they had all passed with marks high enough to warrant continued studies in every subject. The exception was Sarah's A in History of Magic, though she hadn't been planning on continuing with that anyway. Lily, of course, wouldn't dream of being without Potions or Charms, just like Sarah wouldn't dream of being without Transfiguration or Arithmancy, Marlene without Ancient Runes or Herbology, or Doe without Transfiguration and Astronomy. And so the rest of the time on the train was spent discussing which classes each would be taking and when they could meet to study and do homework together.

When the train finally entered Hogsmeade station, the rain had slackened ever so slightly, no one had killed any one else, and the sugar rush was just barely about to start fading again. By the time the feast actually started, each would be more than capable of eating her fill.

* * *

_**A/N Part II:** Oh noes, a curfew! The next chapter ('Back When It All Began') will be another flashback to 1971 and 1972._

_Until then ~_


	4. Back When it All Began

**_A/N:_**_ I do not own any of the canon characters._

**The story thus far:** Sarah Zachary was once a muggle who met a girl by the name of Dorcas Meadowes one hot summer in 1966. In time, this girl learned that she's actually not a muggle. That same day, she also met one Sirius Black, but neither of them remembers it. Or don't they?

* * *

Chapter 3  
Or, Back When It All Began

September 1st, 1971

Eleven-year old Emmeline Vance sat in the backseat of her family's car. Butterflies had been swarming in her stomach since breakfast, which she had barely touched. The family car was getting closer and closer to King's Cross Station, and therefore to school. Not helping the situation was her muggle mother.

"Are you sure you have everything?"

"Yes, mother."

"Plenty of socks?"

"Yes."

"All of your books?"

"Yes."

"Robes?"

"_Yes_."

Roberta Vance had asked all of this at least five times. She had even helped pack, so she should _know_ that these things were in her daughter's trunk. Nevertheless, she continued questioning Emmeline about her possessions as they made their way across sunny London to the train station.

"Dear, really," Stewart Vance said as he tried merging into another lane. This was by no means, an easy task for the pureblood wizard. He'd been driving for nearly fifteen years now, but was never sure he would get the hang of it. Truly, he would have preferred _anything_ to this. Even walking from the Vance home to the station, while dragging young Emmeline's trunk may have been preferable. May have.

"Well I'm sorry that I worry," Roberta said indignantly.

"Apology accepted," replied her husband with a cheeky grin.

"Laugh all you want," snapped his wife, "you still haven't made it into that other lane yet."

Mr. Vance looked over his shoulder, trying to find an open spot. "Yes, but I _will_ and that's what matters."

"What matters is that you make it into the lane sometime while we're still in England," said his wife.

"Yes, that would be a preferable outcome…"

"You can do it, dear." Her tone was most definitely a bit patronising, but if Mr. Vance noticed, he said nothing. In fact he simply pointed out, "You could do it better."

"Yes, I could. But you need some confidence."

The car suddenly jerked to the side, making Emmeline grab onto the back of her mother's seat to stay upright. A horn blared in her ears, but nothing more than that occurred. Up in the front seat, her father was beaming with pride.

"There we go. Knew I'd get there eventually," he proclaimed.

Roberta Vance gave a nervous chuckle as she shook her head a few times.

"You'll be the death of me, dear."

"Nonsense."

There were several moments of silence in the car, except for the radio playing quietly. Emmeline turned her head to stare out of her window, at the buildings speeding by. Questions no one could answer raced through her mind. Questions such as, where would she end up? How would the professors like her? How would she do in her classes? What if on the first day of class, her wand malfunctioned and she was expelled? What if her wand didn't work at all? What if she had to be escorted back to London with a sad smile on an old professor's face as he or she apologized for the mix-up, but she was actually a muggle like her mother, not magic like her father? No one could answer these and some were downright preposterous, but she couldn't shut them out.

"Emmeline, are you sure that you have your cauldron?"

* * *

All around the train platform, bodies pushed against one another. In some places, a person could barely move two steps without bumping into someone else. In other places, whole meters separated groups. Either way, the platform was already crowded, and more people were continuously streaming through the magical barrier. There seemed to be no end to the line. The platform was not only packed – it was incredibly noisy as well. Laughs floated through the air. Questions rang out, cries of excitement shot through the space, and a train sat expectantly. In their cages, owls hooted, and cats cried. Marlene McKinnon's eyes couldn't get enough of the sight. She'd been hearing for years about the platform for the train to get to school, but it was nothing like she had imagined (not surprising since Marlene McKinnon was not the most imaginative person).

Some of the apparent students were already wearing their uniforms. Most, however, were not. Marlene's older sister, Elizabeth, was in the latter category. Elizabeth McKinnon was a fourth year Gryffindor. Tall and lanky, with a long and straight nose to match, she was a fair estimate of what Marlene would look like in about three years. Marlene herself was fairly tall, and such would be the case for the rest of her life, easily standing at least six to ten centimetres taller than most of the girls in her year.

"Look after your sister, will you?" asked the girls' mother. The older girl sighed. "If I've said it once, I've said it a dozen times, _yes, I will._"

Not far from the McKinnons stood the Lupin family. A prematurely grey John Lupin stood stiff and serious (as was the norm for him these past four years) while his wife Maura fretted over the collar of her son Remus. He was roughly the height he should be for his age, but thin – very thin, as a matter of fact – and pale. There were grey shadows beneath his eyes that didn't seem to belong there. The boy mostly looked okay, but these traits often served to make him look perpetually ill. He kept his head lowered slightly, just nodding or shaking his head when his parents (mostly his mother) asked him any questions. He tried (and succeeded) to not meet the eyes of anyone on the platform.

"It'll be okay, Remus. Dumbledore said everything would be just fine. Study hard, alright?"

On cue, Remus nodded, still very silent.

Much like most of the other eleven-year olds, Remus appeared nervous. Really though, he wasn't exactly _nervous_ – he was terrified. And how could he not be feeling such emotions? Never before, he was certain of this, had someone with his condition been allowed in the school. He wondered how long it would last. He wondered just how long his condition could be concealed. He wondered how long would it be before someone figured it out. He questioned how long would he get to lead an almost normal life before it was all ripped from him. Because someone would figure it out, he just knew it. Seven years was a long time. It was a very, very long time. The way the school schedule was set up; there would be a minimum of 63 opportunities for Remus Lupin to be found out. There were about 1000 students in any given year. He'd be sharing a single room with three to four other boys his age. Eventually, he would be found out. It was a certainty.

The final questions were when and by whom.

As Remus Lupin stood with his parents in the middle of the platform, a boy with dark, lank hair was entering the platform, escorted by only his mother. This boy was one of the few to not be looking nervous, or terrified, or in any way sad to be leaving the side of the woman beside whom he was walking. Severus Snape likely had been looking forward to this day more than any other student on the platform. He was about to be free. For several months straight, he would be free. He would endure none of the screaming his parents directed at each other. He would endure none of the screaming his parents directed at him. He would endure none of the stares from the nosey neighbours. That atrocious sister of his friend wouldn't be able to bother them. Severus would be far away from all of that. The past month since he received his letter had been torture. His father had seemed to be in a worse mood than ever and every day, Severus had done nothing but wish for the days to go faster. The hours spent with his only friend never seemed to be enough. Eventually, he always had to return home.

Of course, there were other perks about being away from his parents besides just not enduring their yelling. His mother would never notice the missing books, which currently rested in Severus' trunk. The only magic Eileen Snape did these days was housework – useless, stupid spells, really. He had started studying her books and notes long ago in secret. He couldn't be absolutely sure that she would protest, but there wasn't much his parents _didn't_ protest. For now, he'd only taken the most interesting of her books, the most fascinating, and the ones so different from any magic he'd seen before discovering them. None of these had been shown to Lily – for some reason, he just knew she wouldn't appreciate them as he did. His friend seemed to be easily rattled and some of the illustrations in these books… well, they didn't bother him, not in the slightest, but he had a feeling that she wouldn't care for them. He'd just have to wait and see. Maybe someday she would be ready.

The girl in Snape's mind, a Miss Lily Evans, was standing not terribly far from the entrance to the platform, flanked by her mother and father. Her older sister was standing not too far away, with a sullen look upon her face. Lily's prior good mood had been dashed only moments ago by another quarrel with her sister. Her happy thoughts of the train and of the school were gone. The excitement that had been lingering since she'd gone to London to purchase her school items had been wiped away. She no longer felt that lightweight feeling of cheer. Instead, Lily felt heavy, guilty, and sad. A part of her had been expecting this. Petunia hadn't been warm to her younger for quite some time, and seeing the sights of the day just served to make things worse (it hadn't seemed possible a short while ago).

So while she couldn't have been the only sad figure on the platform at that moment, her melancholy lacked the underlying excitement that most other students possessed. Rather, Lily was melancholy with a side of guilt. She nodded her head in response to her parent's questions and promised to write, but the rest of her mind, the rest of her thoughts, they belonged only to Petunia. But perhaps… perhaps when the Christmas holidays came around, and Lily was stepping off of that scarlet train that was currently sitting in wait ahead of her, perhaps then her sister would have come around. Perhaps things would go back as they once were. Perhaps things would be as they should be. Petunia and Lily, talking late into the night (which had never really been very late at all) and spending nearly every waking moment together. Perhaps this was just a result of a temporary sting. The pain would pass. It always did.

And then a sound pierced the air.

All at once, Marlene McKinnon, Remus Lupin, Severus Snape, and Lily Evans jumped equal heights at the same exact instance. Despite the very different thoughts and emotions passing through their minds, they had the exact same reaction to the shrill sound of the train whistle. They all turned their heads to investigate, and they all, simultaneously took hold of their belongings, and, with the help of parents, pulled them to the train. They each boarded (not all on the same car, not all through the same entrance), and each found a space at a window from which to wave to their respective guardians. Some waved longer than others, but the farewells were there. And just as would happen on every September the First for many years, just as had happened many times in the past, the whistle blew shrilly for one last time, the large clock on the platform struck eleven am, and the train began pulling away from the platform. It chugged loudly along as it left the station, and begun the long trek from London England, to Northern Scotland.

So ended the summer holidays.

* * *

"Oi, is it all right if we join you?"

An eleven-year old Edgar Bones turned his attention from the other person in the compartment to the door, where two girls – a blonde and a brunette were standing. It was the blonde who had spoken, and Edgar's first impression was that it didn't really matter what he said, that the blonde would probably enter anyway. At least she was courteous enough to warn them.

"Sure, why not?" he asked with shrug that plainly said he knew she would have entered anyway.

"Great," said the blonde as she entered, followed by the other girl. The boys were sitting across from each other and so each of the girls sat across from each other as well. "There aren't really any other spots, ya' know."

"Er… I didn't, but good to know." The young mister Edgar Bones was fairly short for his height, with dark blonde curly hair and blue eyes.

"Well, you know what they say – knowledge is power."

Edgar was pretty sure he had never heard that phrase. "Who says that?"

The brunette spoke up this time, "Muggles."

The other boy now joined in as well: "Sounds like the Ravenclaw motto -"

"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure," rattled off the blonde.

"Bravo. Aspiring Ravenclaw yourself, then?" he asked her.

"Nah, I don't really care where I end up. What about you?"

"Blimey, yes."

"I'm Doe Meadowes, by the way, and this is Sarah Zachary," the blonde said.

"I'm Dirk Cresswell, and this is Edgar Bones." Dirk had a similar, though darker, shade of hair than Edgar, but brown eyes to Edgar's blue and a darker skin tone. The two boys had just met on the train platform that very day, though they already knew _of_ each other, since their fathers were co-workers in the Ministry.

Dorcas nodded to each of them. "So Bones, where do you want to end up, then?"

"Me whole family have ended up in Hufflepuff. Zachary?"

"I don't know… I guess anywhere is fine," answered the brunette.

"She's a muggle-born," said Doe. "'Could end up anywhere."

The two boys nodded. Neither had had much interaction with muggles or muggle-borns, but had grown up in fairly tolerant households. Neither of them would be kicking Sarah out of the compartment.

"Even Slytherin?" asked Dirk.

"No," said Dorcas before Sarah could even open her mouth.

"You sure?" he asked.

Dorcas' eyes flashed dangerously at Dirk. "Positive. She's no snake."

"So where do you think she'll end up?" asked Edgar.

Sarah reached over and flicked him on the ear, "_She_ is right here."

"Blimey," grumbled Edgar as he rubbed his ear. Dirk chuckled lightly. "Fine. Where do you think you'll end up?"

Sarah took a moment to ponder, which Doe immediately jumped on, announcing, "Ravenclaw." Sarah glared and reached a leg across the compartment to kick Dorcas' shin sharply. "Gryffindor."

"_Everyone_ wants to be in Gryffindor," Dirk groaned.

Before Sarah could begin to amend her answer, there was a light knock on the door. Another pair of kids was standing at the entrance to their compartment, apparently looking for a place to sit.

"Have any space?" asked the girl.

"Yeah, I think so…." Edgar said uncertainly as he moved closer to the window. Dirk mimicked him, and the two girls scooted closer to the boys. The two kids entered and sat in the available spots by the door. "Thanks," said the girl. The boy, however, was silent. "I'm Lily, Evans, that is. And this is Severus Snape."

The others in the compartment rattled off their own introductions again.

"So Zachary, you looked like you were about to say something," Edgar said.

"Oh, well, I guess Ravenclaw _would_ be okay."

"Oh, you guys are talking about that too?" Lily asked.

Dorcas shrugged. "I guess it's on all the first-year's minds." Snape rolled his eyes, though, at the topic of conversation. "We just came from a compartment where some idiots were blabbering about Gryffindor."

"They were very rude," added Lily.

Sarah blushed and quickly murmured something along the lines of 'silly, that'. Doe gave a small giggle and nudged Sarah's trainer with her own. "Guess Ravenclaw is looking loads better, huh, Socks?"

The Snape boy looked over at the blushing girl, a look of faint contempt appearing on an otherwise bored face. Sarah met his eye, but soon had to look away. There was something there she didn't like. The other kids in the compartment soon fell into discussion about the different classes and what to expect of the school. Everyone except for Lily and Sarah was talking animatedly about the things their parents had told them over the years (though 'animated' was perhaps a strong word where Snape was concerned). The two muggleborns for their part listened intently, sometimes offering what they already knew about the school thanks to their friends. Snape, however, had a special talent for killing the conversation with condescending remarks. For the most part, everyone ignored these moments.

Soon, the conversation turned to what magic everyone had performed thus far.

"I guess my best was setting Perkins' bag on fire," offered Sarah.

"A fire? The best you can do? Maybe you do belong in Gryffindor," said Snape in his trademark quiet voice. The rest of the kids offered awkward chuckles. Sarah mashed her teeth together and blocked out the rest of the conversation. When it seemed like a long enough length of time had passed, she stood from her seat and announced that she'd be back soon.

The door to the compartment behind her shut with a gentle click and she looked both ways down the corridor, unsure quite where to go.

* * *

Hours later, Dorcas Meadowes was walking beside her friend and two boys Sarah had met on the train. She wasn't sure how she felt about either of them. From what Dorcas could see, Sarah herself seemed fairly indifferent to them. The brunette hadn't returned to the compartment for several hours after leaving to find the loo. When she had, she'd been ignoring most everyone in the compartment except for Doe, to whom she said that when they got to Hogsmeade, there were some other people in their year with whom she wanted to ride in the boats. The blonde, not to be separated from her friend on this most important of journeys and evenings, agreed. The boys had seemed nice enough. High energy and spoilt, perhaps, but they were no better or worse than that Snape bloke.

Now the students were walking into what had been deemed the Great Hall. It was quite obviously beyond anyone's expectations, particularly her own. Dorcas' eyes couldn't move fast enough, they weren't large enough, and there just were enough _of them_ to see everything that needed to be seen. She wanted to stare at the ceiling. She wanted to gaze at the hundreds (thousands?) of floating candles. She wanted to gape at the sheer _size_ of everything in the room. She only barely heard the instructions from the witch standing at the front of the room with an old hat and a stool. As names were called, she listened for the people she had met, and largely ignored the rest.

"Black, Sirius!"

There was a pause. Not terribly long, but a pause nonetheless, after which the hat shouted, "Gryffindor!"

Edgar Bones was sorted into Hufflepuff just like his whole family and Dirk Cresswell was sorted into Ravenclaw, just as he'd wanted. In between and after, other students Doe didn't yet know were sorted. Then came "Evans, Lily", the redhead from the train compartment.

"Gryffindor!"

Neither Dorcas nor Sarah could resist a short round of giggles. The Evans girl had seemed to dislike the House of Lions when she entered their compartment, and yet there she was, walking over to that particular table. Dorcas rather loved irony. While more students were sorted, Doe resumed her stare about the hall.

"Lupin, Remus!"

Lupin. Meadowes. Her name would be coming up soon. Before she could fret over that fact, her green eyes locked with amber of the boy about to receive the hat.

And right then, she knew that she would have to get to know this Remus Lupin.

She watched intently as the hat seemed to mull over the boy. She wondered which houses the hat was deliberating. Remus Lupin. Remus. Remmy. No, that was stupid. Lupin. It was just one letter from _lupine_. There were two definitions for that word. Definition 1: a plant of the pea family, with deeply divided leaves and tall, colorful, tapering spikes of flowers. Definition 2: of, like, or relating to a wolf or wolves, because _lupine_ was derived from _lupus_, Latin for wolf. Remus had a tie to Latin as well, now that Doe thought about it. Supposedly, Rome had been founded in part by someone named Remus. He was also supposed to have been raised by a she-wolf.

But giving him a nickname derived from any of that would be incredibly boring and predictable.

"Gryffindor!"

As the boy walked towards the designated table, Dorcas had to concede that maybe the House of Lions wouldn't be so bad after all.

There were a few students called before Dorcas, both girls and both sorted into Gryffindor. But, eventually, "Meadowes, Dorcas" was called and, after giving Sarah's hand a brief squeeze, she made her way through the remaining students and to the stool. She sat on the edge and soon the hat was lowered, nearly covering her eyes. The word Gryffindor was ringing through her mind.

"_Is that really your request?"_ asked a voice in Doe's ear.

_Yes. Well, no. Yes. Why shouldn't it be?_

"_Your natural inclination seems to be more for wisdom, not for courage."_

_I'm brave. I've stood up to loads of people._

"_So I see. I see courage and chivalry. But is it your defining characteristic? I see cleverness. I see a great thirst and need for knowledge, for information, and a love of learning."_

She wanted to be brave.

"_You can still be brave in –_ RAVENCLAW!"

The hat was removed and Doe hopped off the stool. She looked over the crowd of first years who were still waiting, searching for Sarah's eyes. As she began to make her way to the long table of other Ravenclaws, she hoped beyond hope Socks would be joining her over here.

Soon after, "Potter, James!" became an instant Gryffindor. The hat had barely touched his head when it declared this fact. The surly boy from the train compartment, "Snape, Severus!" became an immediate Slytherin. Doe couldn't help but notice the look he shot at the Gryffindor table; specifically he was staring at the Evans girl.

More students were sorted. "Wilkes, Lucas!" became a Slytherin, and then, finally, "Zachary, Sarah!" was called. Doe bit her lip and crossed her fingers. Moments passed. A whole minute passed. But, finally, the hat's seam opened, shouting "GRYFFINDOR!" and Doe groaned loudly. It just didn't seem fair. She wondered if she should have fought harder, argued more, to be sorted into that house. Doe and Sarah had never gone to the same school before. Now, even though they were, they found themselves separated still.

As the witch from before – Professor McGonagall – took the stool and hat out of the Great Hall, the white haired, white-bearded man at the head table stood up, his arms held wide. Immediately, whatever chatter may have tried to erupt at the cessation of the Sorting Ceremony was brought to a standstill.

"Welcome, welcome!" the Headmaster announced. "I have a great many things to tell you all, but of course, this is hardly the time. Eat to your heart's content, and then we shall talk."

And with that, the Headmaster sat down, and another Welcoming Feast at Hogwarts had begun.

* * *

"So we've got…"

"Astronomy."

"Yeah, all the houses are in the same Astronomy class, huh?"

"Looks like it…"

"And…"

"Transfiguration."

"Is that it?"

"Well, flying classes should start in about two weeks and that's all the houses together."

It was a bright September the Second and Dorcas had just walked over to the Gryffindor table after receiving her schedule. She and Sarah were staring at their pieces of parchment, comparing which classes they had when, and which they happened to share. Of course it said on the schedule with which houses they shared classes, but it was almost like if they didn't compare them _together_, then the words weren't quite telling them the truth. Either way, the two girls sat side-by-side, comparing what was to be their day-to-days for the next several months.

Sarah bit her lip. "We can always study together too, in the library or on the grounds…"

Dorcas nodded, still staring at her parchment. "Yeah, good call. What times?"

"'Looks like we each have two classes after lunch and then we're done…" trailed Sarah.

"Yeah, so 3pm we can meet outside the Library and decide from there?"

"Sounds about right."

"Oi, what's this, a traitor in our midst?" asked a foreign voice.

The two girls looked up to see the two boys from the boat the evening before walking towards them, cocky smiles on their faces. Sarah sighed and rolled her eyes. "Black, Potter."

"Now what's with the formalities, Zach?" asked Black as he took a seat beside her.

"How many times do I have to ask you not to call me that?"

"You can ask me until you're blue in the face and I'll still call you it," he said with a shrug.

Dorcas shot a glare to the boy, Black, as it were. "She said she doesn't like it."

Sirius held his hands as a shield and as surrender. "Yes ma'am. I was just having a bit of fun."

"It's alright, Doe, he didn't mean anything by it." Sarah said quietly.

"There we go, that's the spirit!" laughed Potter, clapping a hand on her shoulder roughly and making her roll her eyes once more.

Dorcas looked between Sarah and the other boys. She hated to see her friend being bossed around like that. She'd thought before that the boys were mostly all right but spoilt. Now she was positive such was the case. They didn't seem to understand the meaning of the word 'no'. Billy Perkins hadn't understood 'no' either. Dorcas wasn't sure she liked this situation. She wouldn't normally call Sarah a pushover, but the girl did tend to be a bit too trusting when she shouldn't. She too often gave others the benefit of the doubt. And forget about second chances – Sarah liked to give third and fourth chances. Dorcas was likely going to be spending far too much time with these two boys in the future.

"Right. Well, I'll see you Sarah," Dorcas said as she got up from the bench to return to her own house table. She could (and would) see Sarah later in the day. Hopefully, it would be without those two boys in tow.

* * *

September 16th, 1971

**REMAINS OF MISSING MINISTRY OFFICIAL FOUND. INVESTIGATION CONTINUES.**

Mister Alexander Dortmuth of the Muggle Liaison Office has been found dead in an alley outside of a pub in Chatham. Readers will recall that he was reported missing after not arriving home on the 21st of August. Details of his death are not being released for the time being. As mentioned in a previous article, Mr. Dortmuth was the writer of several key laws in 1967 that granted harsher punishments to those using magic against Muggles. It continues to remain unclear if his hand in writing those laws have had anything to do with his disappearance and subsequent death.

It is also unclear why he would be found where he was. Mr. Dortmuth, according to friends and family, was not by any stretch of the imagination a drinker. Furthermore, he wasn't one to stop by pubs on his way from work. He was well known to always go straight home after a shift in the office. So engrained was his routine that times he did have to go someplace else after work, he would often show up late because out of habit he would floo or apparate home first, his friends claim.

Also odd is the location. Mr. Dortmuth did not live near or have any occasion to be in Chatham the day of his disappearance. He had no relatives there, and so far it would appear that he had no friends in the area either.

With so few leads on the case, investigators ask that any individual with any information about Mr. Dortmuth or his death kindly step forward.

* * *

Mister Dortmuth's killer was never found or brought to justice. His widow buried him and mourned, but never found out who killed him or why. In later years, an entire group would take credit for his demise, but the actual individual(s) responsible never stepped forward. In 1971, a man was beginning to slither out from the shadows. At first, it seemed to some that he simply had the wizarding community at heart – he was encouraging them to stay strong and was promoting talent. "Talent", however, was synonymous with "heritage" for this man, an ideology with which some did not agree. Others, however, did and he began gaining more and more support. As he gained more support, his words and the intent behind them became all the more clear. However, that was not for some time after the events at hand and is useless to discuss them presently.

Within Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, however, all of this politics nonsense was far away. It was unimportant.

Lily Evans was more concerned with the fact that two boys in her house and year were turning out to be some of the biggest bullies in recent years.

Dorcas Meadowes was more concerned with the fact that her friend, who had once been bullied, was considered to be friends with these boys.

"Didn't you hear what they did to that Hufflepuff, Fenwick?" asked Lily one day as the three girls walked out of the castle and onto the grounds. It was a sunny day in October. Halloween was just days away. The leaves were brilliant reds and gold, the air crisp, but not overly cold. Snow wouldn't begin falling for a few more weeks.

Sarah shrugged. "They didn't mean anything by it."

Lily was growing tired of how often the other Gryffindor said that and knew that Dorcas was as well. In fact, it was the blonde who then said, "Didn't mean anything by it? Socks, the boy was in tears by the time it was broken up."

"It was just a joke!"

"It was cruel," corrected Lily.

Sarah sighed and shook her head twice. "It was a laugh, they weren't going to hurt him."

"They did hurt him, though!"

"Not really!" Sarah said as she kicked a small stone down the hill through which their small path cut. "I heard it was barely a scratch and that he wasn't in the infirmary for five minutes."

"I can't believe I'm hearing this!" Dorcas exclaimed.

"What?" Sarah asked as the girls stopped at a large willow tree. The leaves were a bright orange colour, some more of a yellow. The limbs swayed in the breeze and an occasional leaf fell from a branch. "It's all rumours. It's just been blown out of proportion."

Lily dropped her bag on the ground, preparing to sit under the long and sweeping branches. "Black and Potter ganged up on another student and jinxed him until he was crying and had cut his arm. How is that just 'blown out of proportion'?"

"It was just three jinxes, and it's not their fault he fell against a statue of armour like that."

"Sarah, are you even listening to yourself?" Doe exclaimed. Lily nodded her head in agreement. It was like the dark-haired girl refused to see the fault in those two boys. She always came immediately to their defence and wouldn't listen to reason.

"They apologized!"

"Because a Professor forced them!" argued Lily.

"Well what do you want from me? An apology? I wasn't even there!"

"We just want you to come to your senses!" said Dorcas. "They're not good people."

"They've been real nice to me and to the both of you."

"They call you a nickname you don't like, and they pick on my best friend all the time!" shouted Lily.

Finally, the other Gryffindor seemed to falter. She may have been forgiving, but she wasn't stupid, and she wasn't blind or deaf. There were times she had seen the boys for the prats they were. The problem was of course, that the two ringleaders were always used to getting their way. They were each charming and charismatic and they knew it. Even Lily and Dorcas had on occasion laughed along with the boys' jokes.

"Well, the nickname really isn't that bad… it's kind of grown on me, I guess. And Snape isn't much better! Did you even hear the way he was talking to me on the train?"

"That's beside the point!" exclaimed Lily.

Lily didn't quite feel like mentioning that some people just needed time to get to know Snape. She had made friends with him rather easily, but others, Petunia especially, just didn't understand or take the _time_ to understand him. It was a real shame. But, Lily really wanted to say, as long as you got past the initial barrier, he was a great friend. She wasn't sure she had ever met anyone so loyal.

"I don't see how," said Sarah. "This really isn't a big deal."

"Billy Perkins."

Lily looked strangely at the blonde. "Who?"

Sarah glared, but didn't meet Dorcas' eye as she sat down by the tree. "He has nothing to do with this."

Dorcas continued to stand as she argued, "He has everything to do with this!"

"Who's Billy Perkins?" asked Lily.

Dorcas stared down at Sarah who was staying resolutely silent. "William Perkins III was a bully at the school Sarah went to before Hogwarts. She never cared about what he did until one day he began demanding her pocket money, calling her names, and generally tormenting her."

"That was an entirely different situation," Sarah mumbled. She was beginning to sulk, meaning that the girls may not make much more progress.

Dorcas sat between the redhead and her long-time friend. "One of these days, Socks, those boys will turn on you too."

"No they won't."

"They only care about each other."

Sarah pouted a little, but her arguments were getting quieter. Dorcas had clearly struck a nerve by mentioning this past bully. "You don't know them."

"Neither do you," protested Lily.

"You've only known them two months!" said Dorcas.

"Well I've only known Lily two months!"

But in the end, the girls reached a stalemate. The three of them, after all, shared a common characteristic of stubbornness. Over the course of the year (and in the years that followed), the argument would rear its head in two different ways: either the duo of Potter and Black was the enemy, or it was Snape. Neither Sarah nor Lily would admit the faults of their friends. Both girls were convinced that the other side was the one in the wrong. However, this difference in opinion was not enough to tear them apart. While they were not immediate best friends, they shared common friendships and a living space. No matter what, the two of them had to see each other nearly all day, every day.

* * *

September 23rd, 1972

**WHAT IS HAPPENING TO THE MUGGLE LIAISON OFFICE?**

Mr. Alexander Dortmuth. Ms. Genevieve Baudelaire. Mrs. Katherine Wilt. Mr. Sean Tate.

All of these outstanding witches and wizards worked in the Muggle Liaison Office. All have been reported missing and/or found dead in the past year. Each case is currently unsolved with no leads. Besides the fact that these individuals worked in the same office they share no other characteristics. None lived near any of the others, and each had different ancestry with families that ranged from the fairly recent to the centuries old. Mr. Dortmuth had been married 15 years and had two children. Ms. Baudelaire was one month from being wed when she was discovered dead in her home. Mrs. Wilt had been married 35 years and had no children. She has been missing for over six months and is presumed dead. Mr. Tate, missing for over a month, has been in a steady relationship.

Officials are treating each case as being unrelated, though some in the wizarding community are sceptical. Those in the latter category state that some pieces of legislature relating to the ethical treatment of Muggles has been shelved or scrapped in recent months. It appears that as officials go missing, anti-Muggle sentiment is beginning to grow and gather attention.

* * *

September 26th, 1972

**LETTER TO THE EDITOR**

It appears to me that Ms. Brenda Hopkins is trying to simply find controversy where none exist. There have been no scrapped pieces of legislature dealing with ethical treatment of Muggles. There is no anti-Muggle sentiment growing in the wizarding world. At this time, the disappearances about which she wrote are all unrelated. In fact, Mrs. Katherine Wilt, at the time of her disappearance, had been retired for going on two years. In her attempt to be "cutting edge", Ms. Hopkins is doing nothing more than stirring a panic.

Mr. Daniel Boyce

* * *

The library silence was disrupted quite abruptly on October the 5th of 1972 when a dark haired second-year Gryffindor approached two girls and asked,

"Zach, is it true that you have three books about human transfiguration?"

Sarah looked up from her latest Potions essay to see Sirius standing in front of her. Next to her, Doe was raising her eyebrows. "Blimey, Black, I didn't realize you knew where the Library was."

"Nice seeing you too, Meadowes. Zach?" He spun a chair around and sat backwards on it, facing the two girls from across the table in the corner of the library.

"Yeah, I have them. Why?"

"Can James and I borrow them?"

Sarah shook her head. "Doe and I need them. McGonagall's recommendation."

"Oh come on, that's just a recommendation," he said.

Sarah chewed on the inside of her cheek. "Why do you need them?"

"We just do."

She still seemed reluctant. "And this can't wait until I turn them back in?" She asked, twirling her quill between her fingers.

"They're not due until practically Halloween," Sirius said. "James and I only need them for a few hours."

"A few hours?" Sarah asked, her eyebrows rising. Who on earth couldn't wait three weeks or so for some books just to look at them for '_a few hours_'?

"A day or two."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Can you wait until tomorrow night?"

Sirius seemed to deliberate this suggestion. "Fair enough. Bring 'em to the room, yeah?"

"Sure."

Sirius left then, turning the chair and pushing it back under the table. As he walked away, his hands in his pockets, Sarah's eyes followed. Even when he had turned out of sight, her eyes lingered on the path he had taken. She didn't return to her essay for several moments, and when she did, she was working slowly.

"What's up, Socks?" asked Dorcas.

"Nothing."

"Something."

Sarah leaned her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her hand. "He wouldn't tell me why he needed the books."

Dorcas once again raised her eyebrows. "So? Is that so surprising?"

"Doe, if I asked you why you needed to borrow something of mine, would you refuse to tell me?"

"No, but then again, Black is a git and I'm not." She bent her head back to her Potions book to check a fact she had been about to discuss in her essay.

"Oh, stop it, Doe. He's not that bad."

"He's keeping secrets from you. That's a git thing to do."

Before Sarah could use one of her typical defences, another girl in their year arrived, the raven-haired and bookish Emmeline Vance. She was a Ravenclaw and had somehow grown to be friends with Dorcas over the past year.

"Sorry I'm late, there was a spot of trouble in the hallway," she said as she took the seat only minutes earlier occupied by Black.

"What happened?" asked Dorcas.

"Potter and Snape were at it again." Emmeline set her bag on the desk and began pulling out pieces of blank parchment, a quill, and an inkwell. "There was a huge crowd blocking the entire corridor. Filch finally showed up and began giving them a hard time for magic in the corridors."

Doe rolled her eyes. "What a surprise."

"Yeah, I know. What's that you're working on? Potions? Excellent," she said as she pulled a book from her bag, which she then allowed to fall to the floor.

Sarah was making a face. "Who started it?"

"Potter," Doe said without a moment's pause.

Emmeline shrugged and shook her head. "I don't know. I got there long after it started."

"Five galleons it was Potter, though," said Dorcas.

Sarah ran a hand through her hair. "You don't know that. Snape starts it just as often."

"That he does. But it was Potter's turn."

The dark-haired Gryffindor just shook her head and turned back to her Potions essay. Emmeline couldn't help but notice that Sarah seemed upset by something. Maybe it was the topic of conversation. Then again, she had seemed upset when Emmeline arrived. Emmeline briefly wondered if she should ask what was wrong. What kept her from doing so, however, ties into the fact that she had "somehow" grown to be friends with Dorcas. Whereas the blonde was prone to being loud or rambunctious, Emmeline was not. She was usually a quiet girl and lived in her head. But, as it turned out, she didn't have to ask to find out. She only had to bide her time, something at which she was quite adept. A few hours later, the girls were making their way from the library to the Great Hall for dinner when Sarah once again spoke of the topic.

"Should I just give them the books?"

"This is Black and Potter. They don't just learn for the sake of learning. If they want those books, they have a reason for it," said Doe.

"Black and Potter know how to read?" asked Emmeline. Immediately, she clapped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide. Doe, however, erupted into loud laughter, clapping Emmeline hard on the shoulder.

Sarah only rolled her eyes as she half-sighed, "_Yes_."

"Oh come on, Socks, that was funny, you have to admit."

"Okay, it was a good one, Em. But that doesn't answer my question," the Gryffindor complained.

"I vote no," said Doe.

"Big surprise. Em? What do you think?"

She was a while in answering. Truthfully, she didn't much like Potter and Black. It wasn't that she _hated_ them, like Lily or even Dorcas. Most of the time, she didn't take any notice of them. They were in a different house, and except for Transfiguration, they didn't share any classes. She hung around the library and the Ravenclaw common room. They hung around outside, or in the Quidditch pitch, or in the Gryffindor common room. They just didn't cross paths very often. Of _course_ she heard about the pranks they pulled and the people they teased – she didn't live under a rock. But as they never made fun of her or her friends, she wasn't terribly outspoken about it. Her reasoning was that the more people talked about them (positive or negative), the more it fuelled the fire. They just wanted attention. That was all. She told this to the other two. Predictably, Dorcas thought she had a point, but still voted that Sarah not give the boys the books until they told her why they wanted them. Sarah, however, denied they were after attention and said she would have to think about it.

As the girls began to split away to sit at their respective House tables, Doe grabbed Sarah's hand, keeping her from walking away just yet. "Socks, if they're really your friends, they'd keep you in the loop."

Sarah tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She didn't appear convinced. "I guess."

"Socks, I'm saying this as your friend, not as someone who doesn't like them."

This time, Sarah nodded. Doe released her friend's hand and the two walked away from each other. As Dorcas and Emmeline ate, the both of them periodically shot glances at the Gryffindor table. The boys didn't show up while Sarah was there, and so she ate alone, a downcast look on her face.

* * *

While Ms. Zachary was finishing her lonely dinner, James was walking out of McGonagall's office to find Sirius waiting for him. The young Mr. Black was leaning against the wall opposite the witch's office with his hands lazily in his pockets. He didn't seem bored, or anxious, or in any way inconvenienced. He seemed completely at ease right where he was. It seemed completely appropriate that he be in that spot at that time. It was like he belonged right there, waiting for his best friend to be done conferencing with the Professor. James, however, seemed to think otherwise.

"You're like some bird waiting for her bloke after class," James said as he walked past his friend.

Sirius pushed off the wall and in two strides had matched James' pace. "How was the sentencing, honey?"

"Detention next Saturday and twenty points," frowned James.

"Could have been worse. At least she was too busy with some other thing to punish you right after it happened. It would have been worse in that case. Even worse than that if she had been the one to catch you," said Sirius. Then, a thought seemed to grab him. "How much you think Slughorn took from Snape?"

James shook his head. "Probably nothing."

"Yeah. Probably no detention either."

"Well, discipline keeps us from being murderers and robbers."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "James, you wouldn't know discipline if it sat you in time-out."

There was a break. "Fair enough."

"So, blatant use of magic in the corridors, I hear?" Sirius asked, changing the topic.

"He started it." James said defensively.

"What'd he do?"

"Breathe."

The two boys laughed loudly, though to anyone who may have been listening, there wasn't anything even remotely humorous being discussed. In fact, if certain people in their year had heard that, a screaming match likely would have followed in that moment. But, there was no one around to question the boys' humour or to yell at them for supposed cruelty, and so the two friends continued down the corridors, thinking they were the funniest pair in the castle.

"How's the research coming along?" asked James after a few minutes.

"You know, it wouldn't kill you to help ol' Peter out."

James raised an eyebrow and glanced at his friend. "So you've been going to the library too, have you?"

"_Actually_, I did. Turns out _someone_ already checked out some of the books Peter thinks we need."

"A shame we haven't learned summoning charms yet," mused James.

Sirius shrugged. "Not necessary. I know who has them."

"Why Sirius, you surprise me with your willingness to investigate."

"Why James, you hurt me with your condescension."

"Checkmate. Charms, bribery, or force?"

The meaning behind this should have been obvious. Each was a method for obtaining what it was the boys wanted. Usually the first one got the job done. Each of the boys was naturally charismatic, and that was supplemented by their upbringing. They knew how to talk to people. However, if that shouldn't work, either boy was more than able and willing to use the second. If that still somehow failed (and it hadn't yet), there was option three.

A grin spread on Sirius' face, as he answered, "None of the above."

"Great."

"Zach has them."

James's face broke into a wide smile as well at that news. The person known as 'Zach' was a fellow Gryffindor in their year. Zach also happened to be a girl, but that was neither here nor there. They'd met her on the train the year before and had immediately felt a sort of camaraderie with her. She hadn't returned it right away, but all in due time they'd been friends of sorts. If she was the one with the books, they were in luck. "You ask her yet?" he asked Sirius.

"Yeah, she'll hand them over tomorrow night."

"Did she ask any questions?"

"Of course she did, she was almost a Ravenclaw, remember?"

"What'd you tell her?"

"Didn't have to. Just said that we just needed them and she said if we could wait a day, then they'd be all ours."

"Great."

The boys descended a marble staircase and were right outside the Great Hall. No one of interest was sitting at the Gryffindor table for the time being. Unbeknownst to them, Zach had already come and went. The two boys picked a spot near the middle and as James was helping himself to a large pot of potatoes, Sirius leaned over the table, and in a low voice, asked:

"Should we tell her, though?"

James picked up a fork and scooped some potato mash onto it. "No."

"You have some nerve, Potter!"

"Uh-oh," James said, turning away from Sirius and towards the angry redhead storming up along the table. James didn't have to sit and contemplate what had brought the redheaded storm upon him this time. Clearly, she had heard what happened in the hallway earlier.

"Evans, nice evening, isn't it?"

"Don't give me that! How could you do that to Severus?" demanded Lily.

"I didn't start it!"

"Don't lie to me, I was there," she snapped.

"Damn, I was hoping that one would work."

"Leave. Severus. Alone."

"How. About. No?"

Sirius and a few nearby students all laughed at this. James smiled wider at the mass approval of his joke. Even Lily's mouth twitched ever so slightly, but she masked it with an even sharper glare than the one she was already wearing.

"What is it with you, Potter?" the redhead demanded. "Why in the world do you feel that you have to make everyone miserable?"

"Don't pin this all on me! Did you see the book that your beloved _Snivellus_ was carrying today? What about the one yesterday, I know you saw that one!"

Lily's face was growing almost as red as her hair. "Don't call him that!"

"Dunno, Evans, it fits pretty well," said Sirius.

"Stay out of this, Black."

"Hey, now who's being bossy and making others miserable?" asked James.

"Stop changing the subject! _Stop_ picking on Severus." And she stormed down the length of the table, choosing to sit closer to the entrance to the Great Hall.

"The girl has the _strangest_ pick of friends," Sirius muttered.

* * *

October 6th, 1972

**NEW THREAT ON THE RISE**

There is a man out there calling for reform of the wizarding community at large. This man, who refers to himself only as Lord Voldemort, is urging (some might say _demanding_) that the wizarding community, and the Ministry, re-think how they handle Muggles and those witches and wizards of Muggle heritage. There are those who are urging the community to pay no heed to this man. Mr. Samuel Doyle of the Muggle Liaison office had this to say: "It's just Pureblood propaganda all over again. It's ignorance, plain and simple."

However, there are others, who agree with this new mysterious figure. A source, who wished to remain anonymous, offered the following statement: "It is well documented that Muggles hold nothing but contempt for those of higher status. Throughout history, we see those of non-magic hunting us with the specific purpose of causing us harm. We must protect our own and ensure the survival of magic in the world."

The source was of course referring to such periods of time as the witch hunts in Europe and in the States. This person also made reference to the widespread opinion that muggle-borns only serve to dilute the pool of magic – that it is because of these people that Squibs exist. Some believe that mating with Muggles and muggle-borns will spell nothing but doom for the wizarding world.

Just how far this "Lord Voldemort" plans to go with his call for magical cleansing remains unclear.

* * *

"So why do you need these so badly?" Sarah asked the next day as she leaned in the open doorway of the Gryffindor boys' second-year dorm. She had just come from an after class study-session with some other friends and was still wearing her uniform and robes. James, meanwhile, was standing in front of her, his hands held out expectantly, no tie, his sleeves rolled up, and his shirttail hanging loose over the waistband of his trousers. In response to her question, his face fell from expectant to a faint scowl. Of bloody course she would be asking questions now of all times. James, though, saw no reason to tell her the truth, for several reasons. "We're pretending to be Ravenclaws."

She made a scoffing sound and held the books tighter to her body. "Come on, James. Why?"

"It's… kind of a secret." That was probably the reason she would most readily accept. Maybe.

Sarah's face fell visibly. "Oh. I can't know." It wasn't a question.

"Well…" He hadn't been expecting this. Sirius said she had agreed. Why was she getting cold feet now at all times? It was probably one of those friends of hers. Meadowes or Evans must have said something to her.

"I thought we were friends."

"We are!"

She held the books over her shoulder now. "So why do you need them?"

"I can't tell you that."

Her grey eyes flashed, making James' heart fall ever so slightly. She wasn't going to give them up that easily after all, it turned out. "Then I guess you don't really need these," she said.

"Oh come on!" James made a move to snatch them from her hands anyway, but she clumsily dodged out of the way.

"Tell me why you need them so badly, or I won't hand them over."

"I'll just wait until you return them, then." That was probably a good idea. After all, the checkout period couldn't be all that long.

However, if he had been expecting this to change her mind, he was to quickly realize that he was mistaken. Sarah held the books firmly against her chest and began backing down the stairs. "Have it your way," she said just before she turned her back on him.

"Aw, come on, Zach! Zach!"

But as much as he called out to her, she didn't turn back, she didn't slow down, and she didn't relent. That was pretty bloody rude of her, if James said so himself.

* * *

Weeks passed. A few days before Halloween found Lily and Marlene in the Library working together on a number of assignments. The boys in their house and year (with a certain female friend of theirs) had been causing a big ruckus in the common room doing only Merlin knew what. When the two girls found focusing next to impossible, they had made a hasty retreat to a calmer part of the castle. Unlike some, they didn't much like to put things off until the last minute. Unlike some, they liked quiet and order as they worked through their assignments. Nevertheless, Lily found her mind wandering, and found her thoughts dwelling on the group responsible for her and Marlene's presence among the books that afternoon. For, if truth be told, she was actually a bit surprised at how well _that_ group had been getting along lately. She had found out from Dorcas and James that there was some sort of rift having to do with a set of three books and secrets. She didn't care, though. Really, she didn't.

But Lily wasn't the only one with wandering thoughts that day.

"I wish we were third years," Marlene said with a discontented sigh.

Lily looked up from her Defence Against the Darks Arts textbook. The blonde was looking wistfully out of the window behind Lily. "My mum would yell at you for wishing our, and her, life away."

"But you know what this weekend is, right?"

"Halloween."

Marlene rolled her eyes. "And you know what everyone in third year and above gets to do, right?"

"So they get to go to Hogsmeade, big deal." Lily shrugged and went back to her book.

The blonde, though, was staring at her friend in disbelief. "Big deal? Big deal?"

"Yeah?"

"_Big Deal_, Ms. Lily Evans?" Her tone suggested she had just heard some great scandal. Lily glanced up from her book, her eyebrows raised. "Severus said it wasn't anything special."

And there was the crux of the matter, for Lily's initial opinions and knee-jerk reactions too often were based off something said by the greasy and unpopular Severus Snape. As soon as his name left the redhead's lips, Marlene rolled her eyes. She didn't like that boy and often left as soon as he showed up. He was creepy and had a special talent for bringing conversations to a standstill. She just didn't like him and couldn't understand why Lily did.

"Well bully for Severus!" muttered Marlene. "What does he know, anyway?"

"He knows lots! He got great marks last year, I'll remind you." And while that may be true, it didn't help his _character_ at all.

"Knowing about books and knowing about things like Hogsmeade are completely different, Lily!"

"Well fine, what's so great about it, if you know so much?"

But it wasn't Marlene who answered Lily's question. "Well, there's Zonko's, but you probably wouldn't see the appeal in that."

Lily glowered at her book. "Go away, Potter." And the Library had always been so wonderful to her…

James, though, pretended not to hear her as he seemingly tried to think of places in the village that might appeal to the redhead. "Birds usually like Honeyduke's and that place with the coffee and the snogging."

"Madam Puddifoot's?" asked Marlene as though personally offended by his words. "You're delusional Potter. I'd much rather spend my time in the Three Broomsticks."

Lily, though, for her part, would have none of it. "What part of 'go away Potter' did you not understand?"

"The part where I need to ask you lovely ladies a few questions."

"No."

"I haven't asked them yet!"

"Doesn't matter. The answer is no."

"So you don't mind at all if I copy all your essays?"

Finally, the redhead turned to meet his playful gaze. "Fine, Potter, what's this about?"

James set a hand on the table, leaning against it. "Friends of yours – a blonde and a brunette have a couple of Transfiguration books that my mates and I need."

"So? Ask them yourself." And she turned back to her book, though she wasn't reading or comprehending any of it at the moment.

James, having lost Lily's gaze, leaned away from the table and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I have. They're being incredibly unreasonable. Refuse to let me have them."

Marlene shrugged. "So wait until they turn them back into the library."

"I did. You'll never believe what they did."

Lily closed her eyes, willing him to just go away. "What, Potter?"

"They renewed them! Can you believe that?"

"Yes, Potter, I can. From what I hear, you're the one keeping secrets from your supposed friend."

"So you're not going to help me?"

"What do you think, Potter?"

"I guess it was worth a shot," he said, taking a step back.

"Well your 'shot' is over. Goodbye Potter."

"Lovely speaking with you as always."

And with that, he left. The two girls were painfully silent for several minutes before falling into conversation about Halloween. Neither brought up the neighbouring village or what other students might have to say about it. They instead talked about the feast that was to take place, as well as the entertainment, which everyone knew to be provided by the ghosts, and the decorations, which would likely be nothing short of spectacular.

As for the boys, it wasn't until after that week's Herbology lesson – two days later – that they finally made any sort of progress. The last of the students had just walked out of the greenhouse, Doe, Lily, and Sarah among them. As the three girls began walking back to the castle, James managed to hit one of Sarah's trainers with an untying jinx and then he and Sirius crossed their fingers.

"Socks, your laces are undone," Dorcas could be heard saying.

"Shoot, I wonder how that happened…"

James turned to Remus, "Hey, call out to her."

"Why me?"

"Please?"

"Fine. Oi, Sarah!"

"Go on ahead, you guys," they heard Sarah say to the other girls.

Remus clapped James on the shoulder as he began to split away from the other two.

"Remus?" Sarah asked as the other boy walked past her.

"Not me, them," he said with a grin, pointing to the two boys now standing behind her.

"Bugger," she sulked, leaning down to tie her laces. "Let me guess: you two want to know if you can have the books yet."

"We'll tell you why," Sirius announced quietly.

Sarah abandoned her laces long enough to shoot him a look that was pure scepticism. "Really, now?"

"There's a bit of human transfiguration we need to learn," James said.

Sarah looked up at them, a look of pure shock and awe on her face. "REALLY? Is that why you wanted to borrow my books on _Human Transfiguration?_ Blimey, I might never have guessed. How thick of me." She rolled her eyes and finished her laces, soon standing to her full height.

"Cheeky, isn't she?" asked Sirius.

"Frightfully," agreed James.

"So what bit are you doing? Going to turn Snivellus into a roach?"

Sirius turned to James. "Now that would be pretty fun, wouldn't it?"

"Focus, Black."

"Right." He turned back to Sarah. "No. It's for us. We need to learn to turn ourselves into animals and back again with no outside help. There's a way, but we can't remember it."

"Animagi," she said matter-of-fact.

"I knew it!" Sirius practically shouted, his index finger pointing in James' face. "I _knew_ it was Animagi!"

"No you didn't!" yelled James, pushing Sirius' hand out of in front of his nose. "You kept trying to say that it was Transimals!"

Sirius shrugged, in a way that betrayed guilt without really admitting that he was wrong. "Close enough."

"Hold on," Sarah said, her brow furrowed as she stared from one boy to the other. "You two want to attempt the Animagi spell?"

"Yeah."

"You're uhm… you're 12. You're in second year transfiguration. And you want to try the Animagi spell."

"Yup."

"Hogwarts doesn't even cover magic that advanced, but **you** want to try it."

James looked at her quizzically. "I'm not following you, here, love."

"There have been what? Five? Six Animagi _this century_? But you two – twelve year old, second-year wizards – want to attempt it?"

"Well, us and Peter."

"Peter? As in Pettigrew? _Peter Pettigrew wants to be an Animagi too_?"

"Well, yeah…."

Sarah stared at the two boys in front of her in such a way that they both became nervous. In some ways, it looked like the stare that McGonagall would give them sometimes when they were acting out in her class or in the Great Hall. It wasn't a nice stare. It clearly said that if they were going to be fucking around, then they might as well get out of her sight to do it because she wasn't going to tolerate it for another moment. It wasn't a nice way to be looked at; that was for certain.

"One condition."

* * *

"You got the books?" Peter asked as he hopped off of his bed to meet the other boys at the door to the dormitory. James and Sirius were both walking into the room, three books shared between the two of them. In addition to the books, they also shared similar looks of unrest.

"Yeah, we got them," Sirius said sullenly.

"Well don't you look chipper," said Remus who continued to lounge on his bed. He didn't think too highly of this plan his friends had hatched and he wasn't too keen on them getting themselves killed over it.

James tossed a book onto his bed and began shrugging out of his robe. "You don't know the half of it."

"How'd you manage to get them, anyway?" Peter asked, dropping onto his bed, a thick book in hand.

"We gave in," answered Sirius.

Remus looked at his friends, shock and horror written on his face. "You don't mean…"

At once, the two boys both adapted nearly identical looks of surprise on their faces. Also at once came the quick denials and damage control, for neither one could imagine spilling a secret that was both so large and so very much not theirs to spill.

"No!"

"Of course not!"

"We'd never tell!

"Are you mad?"

"Blimey, mate."

"The things going through your mind."

Everyone could see Remus relax. The only time he had seemed more frightened was when they boys had first come to him after having stumbled across his secret. Poor Remus had looked like he might cry. Not even two years at the school and he had been found out. Immediately, he had wanted to know if they were going to try to get him kicked out of the school, or if they were about to blackmail him. Of course, each boy came from a family that was loads more wealthy than the Lupins, so blackmail would have been a bit silly in retrospect. Not that greedy people were the most rational in the world, mind you.

"So," Remus said, clearing his throat. "What _did_ you tell her?"

James tossed his finally discarded robe onto his trunk and jumped onto his bed. "Just what magic we were going to try."

"That's it?" asked Peter.

"Well, she sort of…"

"Sort of what?" asked Remus.

"Insisted –"

"Ordered," Sirius cut in. Or rather '_corrected_', was the better word for what he did. She had been awfully bossy and demanding, after all. A trait she seemed to share with that Ravenclaw friend of hers. The blonde was worse. It was a good thing that she hadn't been around when Zach and the boys were coming to their agreement.

"That she "get in" on this," James pointed amongst the boys trying the spell. "On being Animagi."

There was a bit of silence as the three boys began flipping through the pages of the books in front of them. Remus had been working on an assignment for Potions due in two days and turned back to it, though he found his concentration very much disturbed by these recent developments. It was bad enough that three people knew his secret – that hadn't lasted very long at all. He had thought he'd at least make it until third or fourth year until people got too suspicious. He hadn't even made it to the one and a half year mark and people had already worked out what he was. Now a fourth might be finding out just by virtue of spending so much time with the other three. She might even ask why it was that the three boys were attempting the spell. She would only accept "because" for so long.

"I don't suppose I could finally convince you lot not to bother? Not to get yourselves hurt?" asked Remus after a while.

"Not by a long shot, Remus mate," answered James as he turned another page in the tome in his lap.


	5. Oh Baby, You Thrill Me So

_**A/N:** What's this? Another chapter?! Sorry for the wait! I know I say that a lot, so here's the deal: I've been struggling with anxiety and depression for the past several years. Sometimes, it can be very, very hard to find motivation/inspiration/enjoyment for my writing. I've had this chapter written as is for quite a while. However, it was supposed to be longer. There were supposed to be at least two more scenes after where this ends. But I just couldn't write them at this time. Therefore, they'll be found in another chapter. ANYWAY, I don't want to get everyone down, or make them want to run away, so I'll see you at the end of the chapter! Enjoy!_

* * *

Chapter 4  
Or, Oh Baby, You Thrill Me So

September the 2nd 1976 dawned as very cloudy Thursday.

"Wake up."

Something quite solid, but still soft collided with Dorcas' head, causing her to start, her eyes snapping open. The curtains around her bed had been pulled open. Probably it'd been done by whoever had thrown that pillow on her head. But as soon as soon as she saw that there was no emergency, her eyes began to droop again.

"Morning?" she mumbled, rubbing her left eye.  
"Something like that," responded Emmeline from the bed next to Doe's.

There was an inaudible moan from Dorcas' bed and the covers were pulled higher over the blonde's head. Emmeline rolled her eyes and reached across the space, tugging at the heavy blanket. "No, come on Doe, I overslept, which means you have as well. If you don't get up we'll miss breakfast."

"So?"  
"We'll have to interrupt Flitwick's class so we can beg him for our schedules and I've _seen_ you when you haven't had a proper breakfast. Get up."  
Doe sat up, rubbing her eyes still. "I could sneak to the kitchens."  
"Schedules, though, madam Prefect."

Doe glanced over at Emmeline, who was currently buttoning one of her heavier jumpers. So it was going to be that kind of day. Her eyes once again moved to the window and the very grey sky. It wasn't raining, but it was still early. In fact, it was very early. Emmeline may have said that she "overslept", but didn't mean much. What Emmeline called oversleeping, what other (read: normal) people called oversleeping, and what Dorcas Meadowes called oversleeping were all very different things. They could be as varied as by half an hour to a full hour, and even sometimes (read: often) much more. Dorcas couldn't help but think that Emmeline should have been the Prefect. It wouldn't be the last time she would think such a thought. Emmeline Vance rarely, if ever, left it to someone else to wake her up in the morning. If someone else had to wake her, she never argued with them and tried to sleep later. She was just so very much more responsible than the blonde, regardless of what Doe had said to her great-Aunt.

"I hate you," the blonde said as she flung the covers off and set her feet on the floor.  
"Yes, of course. Now hurry up."  
Doe gave a mock salute as she finally stood from the bed and made her way to her trunk. "Anyone in the shower?"  
"I think Rose is about to come out. Rachel and Madeline already went to breakfast."

As if on cue, the door to the adjacent bathroom opened and out walked the blonde haired, blue-eyed Rose Flannigan. "Bathroom's all yours to anyone who needs it."

"Not me," responded Dorcas.  
Emmeline looked up from her shoes. "You were just asking about it."  
"Yeah. Doesn't mean I needed to use it."  
"And so begins another year rooming with you lot," said Emmeline with a roll of her eyes.  
Rose just shook her head as she began changing for the day. "You're a strange one, Dorcas Meadowes."  
Doe paused from changing long enough to pitch a bundle of socks at Rose's head. "It was curiosity. 'Sides, I get to use the Prefect bathroom anytime I want."  
"No, _now_ begins the year of rooming with her," Rose corrected Emmeline's previous jab as she picked up the bundle of socks.  
Emmeline rolled her eyes as Rose tossed the socks over her shoulder. They rolled by Emmeline's feet and were temporarily forgotten. "Yeah, keep bragging."  
Dorcas made a face, but turned back to buttoning her blouse. "You know, I think I will. Have I told you about it?"  
"Only every time you've used it," said Rose.  
Dorcas was pulling on a thick pair of tights. "The large bath that's more like a pool…"  
Emmeline picked up the abandoned socks and tossed them at Doe's head. "The multitude of soaps with varying sizes of bubbles and thickness of foam."  
"Don't forget the different scents as well," Dorcas reminded her.  
"The privacy," added Rose.  
"In other words," said Doe, "Heaven," she breathed with a wistful smile as she tossed the socks at Emmeline.  
"Whatever you say. Ready to go or do you need to pitch more stuff at your roommates?"  
"Ready enough," Doe replied as she slipped her feet into her shoes and grabbed her jumper and tie. She'd don those on her way.  
"Oi, can't be bothered to wait for me?" asked Rose.

Doe stopped, a perplexed look on her face. The five girls in the dormitory all got along well enough, but had split into defined pairings years ago. Doe and Emmeline spent most of their time with their Gryffindor friends; Madeline and Rachel spent their time either just with each other or with any handful of boys; and Rose just sort of floated between the two pairs and a group of Hufflepuffs.

"Did you want us to?" asked Emmeline.  
"Nah, go on ahead."  
"Are you sure?" Doe asked. "It wouldn't be too much trouble."  
Rose laughed. "Yeah, I'm sure. I'll see you both in some class later today."  
"If you're sure…" Emmeline trailed.  
"Yeah, yeah, just go already," Rose said.

So, with waves and farewells from them, the two girls descended the staircase into the large common room. It should have been almost blindingly bright, what with sunlight streaming through the large windows and then reflecting off the bright white stone of the walls and floor. The heavy cloud cover, however, kept such from being the case. It might have felt unseasonably cool in the room save for a fire that was already burning in the large fireplace. It seemed more like mid-late October as opposed to only the second of September.

Doe had the feeling this would be a very long year.

The common room, in addition to being dimly lit, was also quite empty. Nearly the whole house must have already gone down to breakfast. As the two girls walked out of the entryway and through the halls, Doe worked on her necktie and her jumper. The halls had always had some amount of a draft, but today it was unreal. She was quickly grateful that she had taken her dress cues from Emmeline that day.

"So you're not going to continue in Herbology or Potions?" Emmeline asked as the girls waited for a staircase that would allow them to get to the third floor.  
Doe was leaning against a railing, staring at the case as it meandered toward them. "Not sure yet, to be perfectly honest. I don't really want to, but others will."  
"You should just do what makes you happy," Emmeline said.  
Doe nodded sagely. "Mm, idealism in a very un-ideal world."  
"At the same time, you may not have liked them, but you were good at them." The staircase finally connected with their landing and the two girls began to descend.  
"I was alright."  
"And it's probably never a mistake to keep your options open."  
"That's certainly true."  
"You're probably just going to decide on the spot, aren't you?"  
"Absolutely."

They reached the second floor and immediately descended the very next staircase. They were beginning to encounter more people, both on ways to and from breakfast. As people became more common, the noise level began to increase as well. The two girls were approaching the entry to the Great Hall when Marlene McKinnon came out of it, staring at one of two slips of parchment in her hand. In the other hand was a half-eaten red apple.

"Oi, McKinnon," said Doe when they had just passed, without any acknowledgement from the blonde.  
Marlene looked up, but shook her head. "Can't stop to chat. Mary overslept and asked me to get her schedule. McGonagall wasn't very obliging."  
"What a surprise."  
"It's not even that late," said Emmeline.  
Marlene shrugged, now walking backwards in order to finish the conversation. "Then you don't know about Mary's marathon showers."  
Doe punched her housemate on the arm. "Not even that late, says the girl who woke me up by throwing a pillow at my head and telling me that we overslept."  
Emmeline retaliated to Doe's punch with a light slap on the shoulder. "We _did_ oversleep. Who knows how long we'll have to wait for our schedules."

At that moment, Marlene happened to bump into a familiar Hufflepuff, the stocky, dark haired Benjamin, or "Benjy" as most called him, Fenwick. Despite being a Prefect and on the Quidditch team, he was still somewhat anonymous. He didn't particularly seek out or crave the spotlight and had a small circle of friends. This also meant that he didn't attract the attention of anyone looking for people to bother. Therefore, Benjy was more or less well liked among those who did know of him. He had few (if any) enemies. Except for a few isolated incidents in first and second year, he hadn't been a victim of bullying and had enjoyed a pretty easy go of it at Hogwarts thus far.

"Whoa!" Marlene shouted, jumping slightly from the surprise of someone suddenly being right behind her.  
"Blimey, everyone's jumping and going crazy today," said Benjamin, who had his hands in front of him.  
"Sorry, Benjy," said Marlene as she turned and began walking faster down the hall. "See you guys later!"

Now sans-Marlene, the remaining three continued to make the now very short trek to the Great Hall, where breakfast was still very much underway. The Hall was thoroughly abuzz with conversation and the clinking of utensils against plates. The delectable smells of various breakfast foods wafted through the doors. Doe really did hate missing breakfast. Not that she would concede to Emmeline just yet, however.

"So who else is jumpy and crazy?" asked Dorcas.  
Benjy shrugged. "Just a couple of other Hufflepuffs. A few places were a bit drippy because of the rain yesterday and some didn't sleep very well," he said.  
"Really?" asked Emmeline. "That's odd. We had no problems at all in Ravenclaw Tower."  
Benjamin shrugged. "I think a lot of it was just people's imaginations. Or a prank. Either way, it all got sorted out. Well, see you girls later."

The three of them had just entered the massive hall. Each of the four tables (Slytherin on the far left, then Hufflepuff, then Gryffindor, and finally Ravenclaw on the far right), were mostly filled. Some students continued streaming into the hall even after the two girls had taken seats facing the rest of the tables.

Emmeline began to help herself to a bowl of porridge. "Should I try to go first with Flitwick to buy you more time, or…"  
Doe had already shoved a piece of toast in her mouth and was scooping eggs and sausage onto a plate. She shook her head, and ripped the rest of the toast from her mouth. "If I wanted more time, I'd have tried to get up earlier."  
"You're just at the height of living dangerously then, aren't you?"  
Doe nodded, chewing a few times before swallowing to answer, "You bet."

At each of the tables, Heads of Houses roamed along the students eating their breakfasts, discussing schedules. Some students seemed to be pleading cases to take classes for which they may not have received the right OWL score. Some just tiredly nodded as the schedule was decided essentially for them. Some seemed to be having yet another session of career advice on the spot. Most of the students, however, were just eating breakfast and reading the morning paper. Either they had their schedules already, or were simply waiting for their turn. Some seemed entirely too happy for the first day of school.

And, sitting at a secondary small table by the staff table, sat the team of Ministry Hit Wizards and Aurors. Well, in all likelihood it wasn't the entire team, but it was more than one or two. Their presence had been announced the night before after the conclusion of the Welcoming Feast. Not introduced, no names were given to the students, but just as the Head Girl and Boy had said in the train, Dumbledore had told the students of the new security measures for that year. Predictably, the hall had crawled with mutterings from many of the students. In all reality, the new measure wouldn't cause that much of a hindrance. Students, well, all people in reality, just didn't like the idea of losing freedoms, of being punished, for something they did not cause.

"Oi, who has got the_ Prophet_?" Doe asked around a mouthful of toast and eggs.  
The boy sitting across the table, Dirk, looked up from his copy. "Don't you have a subscription?"  
"'Course I do. But either mine's not here, or I missed it this morning."  
Emmeline was carefully watching for Flitwick to get to their part of the table. "It'll probably be along."  
"Yeah, but it looks like everyone's all abuzz about it. Dirk, give it here," she said, reaching across the table and gesturing for the paper.  
The boy folded the newspaper and handed it to her, a dark and glum look on his face. "You won't like it."  
"I never do," Doe said.

She took a moment to shove another mouthful of eggs and toast into her mouth before flipping the paper open. Her chewing slowed a bit, and her eyes narrowed as they scanned the moving picture on the bottom half of the front page. A few years prior, she might have looked fearful or saddened by what she was seeing. But after seeing these things so _often_, it was hard to feel such sentiments anymore. Dorcas had a hard time feeling anything other than anger or resignation these days.

Emmeline leaned over, trying to read over Dorcas' shoulder as she asked, "How bad?"  
"Twenty dead, homes destroyed… they're telling the Muggles that it was an _'atmospheric meteor explosion'_."  
"So, giants?" asked Emmeline.  
"They were gone when the Ministry got there. They think it was just a few…." It seemed like Doe was going to say something else, when her eyes widened and she began choking on her food.  
"That'll teach you to eat so fast," said Dirk.  
Emmeline, though, ignored him as she began making grabs for the paper. "What? What is it, Doe? What'd you read?"  
Dorcas, however, kept the paper out of the raven-haired girl's grasp while still trying to clear her airway. "No, hold on…."  
Emmeline turned to the young man sitting opposite. "Dirk?"  
But it wasn't Dorcas or even Dirk who simply stated, "A hunt." It was Edgar, who had been immersed in his schedule and in one of his textbooks so far during this conversation.  
Emmeline looked between the people in the group. "What?"  
Dorcas had finally regained her breathing and shook her head. "The Ministry has ordered a hunt… the culprits are to be found. Dead, taken alive, doesn't matter…"  
"They can do that?" asked Emmeline.  
Dirk ran a hand through his hair. "Apparently."  
"What's the phrase?" asked Dorcas as she tossed the paper back to Dirk. "Extreme times call for extreme measures? Dangerous times call for dangerous measures?"  
Edgar shrugged and turned back to his book. "Desperate times call for desperate measures…. It's something like that."  
"Let me see," said Emmeline as she reached across the table.

The four Ravenclaws fell silent after Dirk handed Emmeline the copy of the _Prophet_. Edgar went back to his textbook, Dirk stared at his plate, and Doe stared at the paper in Emmeline's hands. After a brief while, she began looking out across the Great Hall. Some students seemed to be staring at the day's paper with dismal expressions on their faces. For quite a few, though, that was all far and away from them. A good deal more students were far more interested in the start of school, other people's holidays, and the latest gossip. Basically, it was business as usual. Life went on. That was that.

Just to prove Dorcas' point, Professor Flitwick arrived in that moment. "Miss Vance…"  
Doe took that opportunity to snatch the paper back from her friend. "A hunt," she said to Dirk. "A _hunt_."  
"I know," he said. "I wonder what Dumbledore thinks of it."  
"I mean, they really can't be that different from you or me," she said, staring at the article. "Can they?"  
Dirk pretended to think on the matter. "Well, they live in caves. Don't go to school. Don't really do any meaningful magic…" he listed.  
"Oh shut it, Dirk," Doe said, making a face at him. "They're still living _beings_."  
"What, you think they shouldn't be punished for what they did? Twenty people are _dead_, Dory."  
"No, I know all that. But it still doesn't seem right."  
Dirk snatched the paper from her and turned the pages. When he seemed to have found the one for which he was searching, he folded the pages back and turned it so she could see a moving black and white photograph of a skull and a snake. "What doesn't seem right is letting them free after this. You see that, don't you? You know what that is. These giants are working for You-Know-Who. There were some of those Death Eaters there too."  
"Let me see that," Doe said, standing in her seat to snatch the paper let her have it and crossed his arms on the table. "Doesn't say much. There's just a caption to the picture and a few last lines of the story. I guess they just didn't want to put that one on the front page."  
Dorcas' green eyes lifted from the paper. "Not that it's particularly _shocking_ anymore."  
"No, it certainly isn't…"

Suddenly, the paper was yanked from Dorcas' fingers, prompting her to release a sharp cry. Emmeline was staring at the page with an odd expression on her face.

"Oi, watch it, you twat, you nearly sliced all my fingers," Doe snapped.  
"Ms. _Meadowes_," said a voice from behind the blonde.  
Dorcas cursed in her mind, but turned in her seat, a sweet smile on her face as she addressed her Head of House. "Why Professor Flitwick. You look marvellous today, if I may say so."  
"Yes, yes. Just watch the language, alright, Meadowes?"  
"Yes sir, of course sir."

He didn't make any other comment on the matter, choosing instead to focus on the sheet of parchment that he was holding. He had long ago stopped giving Dorcas long and boring lectures about the language she used or her attitude. He had eventually found that if left to her own devices, she often chose _not_ to act out. The best thing, he had discovered, were simple reminders. Also, when in doubt, putting her in a position of responsibility tended to do wonders for her behaviour. Tutoring and prefect duties had served to keep her out of his hair fairly well for the most part in recent terms.

"Alright, you're clear to continue in every subject. Which would you like to advance?" he asked, looking at the parchment in front of him.  
"All of them."  
Flitwick, looked up at her in mild confusion. "You wish to continue in _everything_? Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Astronomy, Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Herbology, History of Magic, Potions, _and_ Transfiguration?"  
Dorcas made a mock face of contemplation – wrinkling her nose and puckering her lips – for a moment, and then nodded. "Sounds about right."  
"You do realize the strain this will be, taking nine classes? Along with your prefect duties and tutoring assignments?"  
Dorcas nodded. "And Quidditch, yeah."  
Flitwick heaved a sigh. "Are you planning on sleeping at all, Ms. Meadowes?"  
"No, not really," Doe frowned, shaking her head. "May I have my schedule, then?"  
"I really do advise you to drop _something_," Flitwick pleaded once more.  
Dorcas shook her head. "Need to keep all my options open. 'Sides, it can't be that bad."  
"You're entering NEWT level coursework."  
"I'll have some free periods, won't I?"  
"Not as many as you would if you'd drop something."  
"Well I can cross that river when I get to it. Schedule, please."

Flitwick sighed heavily in defeat, but tapped the piece of parchment with his wand and handed it to Dorcas. He walked away, still shaking his head and Doe turned in her seat to face the table again. Her eyes scanned the parchment in her hands, and after a brief moment, she released a short scoff.

"That liar, I have plenty of free periods," she said.  
"_Doe_," Emmeline chastised. "You did _not_ just call Professor Flitwick a liar."  
"Well, not to his face, but yeah."  
"Doe!"  
"What? He _did_! He said I'd have practically no free periods, but I have plenty," the blonde argued, slapping at her schedule.  
Emmeline reached over and picked up the piece of parchment. "You didn't drop _anything_? Doe, are you insane?"  
Dirk reached over the table, making a grab for it as well. "You're joking!"  
"Shut up, all of you," Doe said as she pulled her schedule away from Dirk's reach. "I still have free periods; I'll still have time! It's only nine classes!"

A brief silence fell over the group as each of them contemplated just the right thing to say in response. None of them had chosen to take on so many classes. Hell, none of them had even selected Astronomy or History of Magic. Those two classes were nearly always the first to go for the vast majority of students. There were some who weren't even aware that they continued past OWL at all.

"Dory, when I said it would be a good idea to keep your options open, I didn't mean literally _all the options_," Emmeline said.  
Edgar shook his head. "That may be a few too many options."  
"You'll kill yourself before you even have to start worrying about options," agreed Dirk.  
Doe shoved the schedule in her pocket, keeping it from prying eyes. "Hmph, you all just have no faith in me at all."  
"You're only human," said Dirk.  
"I'll be _fine_," Dorcas said. She wouldn't, but that is neither here nor there.

* * *

"Moony, you're such a twat."

The Marauder looked up from his breakfast, eyebrows raised. It was the first day of classes. It was 8:30 in the morning. And already, Remus was expected to deal with the prima donnas known as his friends. Normally, the sixth year Gryffindor may not have bristled as he did. Unfortunately, the night before had not been an easy or a pleasant one. His bones had been aching in that familiar way. His skin had begun to flame. And his scalp had itched something awful.

Also, Sirius snored.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this great compliment, Prongs?" he asked around a mouthful of breakfast sausage.  
Sirius took the seat beside Remus and snatched a piece of toast from the lycanthrope's plate. "You didn't wake us like you usually do!"  
Remus elbowed the other boy in the side and turned back to his plate. "I'm not your mother. It's not my job to do that."  
Across from the two boys, James and Peter had already taken seats. James, his hair in a worse state of chaos than usual, was appraising the tired-looking Remus with a careful eye. "This is going to be a bad one, isn't it?"  
"No idea what you're talking about," Remus said as he took another bite of food.  
"Yes you do, _Moony_."  
"They're all bad ones."  
Sirius, who had seemed groggily confused earlier, seemed to finally catch up on what was being discussed. "Some have been worse than others, though," he needlessly reminded the other boy.  
Remus pulled a piece of parchment from his pocket and held it in front of Sirius' face. "Just go get your schedules."

"Yes ma'am," said Sirius with a wink as he snatched Remus' schedule from his hand (for reference) and got up from his seat, followed by the other two boys. The lone Marauder watched them go with a small pang in his stomach. He shouldn't have been so short with them. It wasn't their fault he was feeling ill. Even Sirius couldn't really take any blame – he could hardly help the noises that came in his sleep. Remus would have to apologize later. Of course, they would refuse to accept any apology at all from Remus. They knew far too well about his affliction and what came with it. But that wouldn't stop him from trying to make amends anyway. It was just the right thing to do.

With the other boys gone, Remus turned his eyes to the rest of the Great Hall for the first time. Several Hufflepuffs looked nearly as tired as Remus felt. Quite a few were staring at the day's paper, likely discussing the giant attack of the previous day. Further across, the Slytherins seemed to be doing much of the same. Then again, they didn't seem to be anywhere near as dismal about the news as the Hufflepuffs were. That could have just been Remus' imagination. The Gryffindor table was abuzz with people discussing the paper and/or schedules. Many were planning what they'd be doing with their free periods. Further down, Lily and Marlene were discussing something with much exuberance, but Remus couldn't make any of it out from where he sat. Perhaps they were discussing the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. It was the first time in their five years at the school that the position had been filled by a woman and many of the girls seemed to be expressing happiness at this development.

Remus' eyes found their way to the staff table at the front of the Great Hall and to the new addition amongst the ranks. Professor Laurel Chatalbash was happily chatting with the Arithmancy professor, Constance Nombre. She seemed chipper enough, but Remus didn't fail to notice that her plate barely held any food, or that what was there hadn't been touched. It was probably nerves. Today would likely be her first time ever teaching, and she did seem rather young. It would probably be strange for her to _not_ be exhibiting any signs of anxiety.

"Well! That's all done now!" Sirius announced as the three boys loudly sat back around the fourth Marauder.  
"And about time, too," said Peter. "I thought we might miss the rest of breakfast."  
"We could always sneak down to the kitchens," Sirius said at the same time as James was saying to Remus, "Oi Moony, checking out the new Prof?"  
Sirius, who had been getting what food he could onto his plate, squinted up at the staff table. "He could do worse. She does seem pretty fit."  
Remus rolled his eyes and tossed a chunk of toast at the boy's head. "Charming, Padfoot."  
"What's her name again?" James asked around a mouthful of porridge. "Chatham? Cunningham?"  
"Chatalbash," said Peter. "Don't you ever listen?"  
"Not if I can help it."  
Sirius' eyes narrowed as he took a large bite of bacon. "That name sounds familiar."  
"Yeah, it does, doesn't it?" asked James.  
"I can't place it, though."  
"Me neither, mate. Moony, what about you?"  
Remus shook his head. "It's not ringing any bells yet. When do we have her again?"  
"Right," said Sirius, digging through his pockets until he located a dreadfully rumpled piece of parchment. He handed it to Remus with a quick "here, mate," and got back to his near mountain of food.

It never ceased to amaze Remus how Sirius was always able to utterly decimate any piece of parchment handed to him, not matter how short a time it was really in his possession. He couldn't have been holding onto Remus' schedule for longer than ten minutes, but it already looked at least a week old. It was ridiculous. It was more than a penchant or a knack. It certainly couldn't have been a learned or developed skill. It couldn't be. No, it was some sort of rare gift only very few in each generation were allowed to have. And it never ceased to irritate and perplex Remus. Especially when it was _his_ schedule on the line.

"I feel like I should ask what bloody war this went through in the ten minutes it was gone from my presence, but I likely don't want to know, do I?" he asked against his better judgement.  
James laughed while shaking his head. "It's never really a good idea to ask Sirius for too much information, is it?"  
"All I did was put it in my pocket," protested Sirius.

There was no counter-argument from Remus, though. He was too busy trying to repair what damage had been done to the slip of parchment. Some of the wrinkles may be permanent, but as long as he could _read_ it, he'd be fine.

"So when do we have her again?" James asked.  
Peter sighed. "Monday."  
"Someday, Prongs, you'll learn to read too," said Sirius.  
"And someday, Padfoot, you will kindly fuck off."  
Sirius pretended to be greatly offended. "Such language!"  
Remus, however, was not so easily amused and rolled his eyes. "You've been saying worse since second year, I may remind you."  
Sirius shrugged, "But that's just it. It's expected of me. Not of you lot."

The warning bell signalling that the first class would be starting soon sounded through the corridors of the large castle. All through the hall, what students were left either immediately got to his or her feet, or they consulted their schedules. Remus couldn't help but notice how nearly identical everyone's movements were. It was rather humorous, in all honesty. Of course, he couldn't be too critical or condescending, as his head soon bowed along with those of his friends to consult their own schedules.

"Whose bright idea was it to continue with Herbology?" James asked.  
Sirius stuck his thumb at the boy sitting beside him. "Moony's, of course. Bloody suck-up, taking all these classes."  
The so-called Moony rolled his eyes. "If you'd gotten up earlier, you could have decided what classes we were taking."  
"It's not like Herbology is _difficult_," Peter reminded the others.  
"Yeah," said James. "But if we weren't taking Herbology we'd have two straight free periods right now."  
"Boo hoo," muttered Remus.  
"If Moony gets much more cheerful it'll be like I never left home," said Sirius.

Remus looked ready to retort, but it was James who held up his hands and suggested that two of them head over to the greenhouses to save the other two seats as they ran back to Gryffindor Tower to assemble what the four boys would need in their first class.

"It's only the first day back," said Sirius. He hated the idea of being early to any class, let alone Herbology.  
"But trust ol' Vinnie to give us some sort of pop quiz to see how soft we've gone over the summer," moaned Peter. The Herbology Professor's name most certainly was not 'Vinnie' and he was definitely not as cordial as the little nickname suggested.  
Sirius wasn't terribly convinced. "We could bum parchment off someone else."  
"Padfoot, no one said you had to be one of the ones going back up. Save us seats," said James. He was, of course, attributing Sirius' hesitance to laziness as opposed to some sort of rebellion. Perhaps it was.  
"Yeah right," said Sirius as if James had somehow greatly offended him. "Worm here and I will get seats by the fittest birds in the year and leave you to work with someone like Stebbins."  
"You wound me, mate."  
"Just fetch the parchment and quills."  
James gave the other two Marauders a mock-salute before turning to the grumpy member of their gang. "Come along, Moony. Heel."  
"Shut up."

And with that, the four boys split up. Sirius and Peter went on ahead to the greenhouses and James and Remus went back to the Gryffindor Tower. Nothing of great import happened to either party before class. In fact, nothing of great import happened during class either. It wasn't until an hour and a half later, as the students began streaming out of the warmth of the greenhouse and into a brisk chill of a drizzle that anything of remote interest happened at all.

It started with a stuck shoe.

"Shit, fuck," cursed Marlene. She was absolutely sure that she had flunked that damn pop quiz that Professor Vinea had given. It was only the first day back at school – where did he get off doing something like that? The blonde had to stop rummaging through her bag, though she didn't think to close it.

"Tsk, the mouths on the students these days," commented Sirius as he and his three friends came up behind the blonde and her friends.

Marlene forced her foot from the mud with a twist. "Well I'm _sorry_ that I'm angry at the fact that my foot has gotten stuck in the muck five_ fucking_ times!"  
"Five fucking times? How are those different from five times?"  
"Black, I swear to Merlin, Agrippa, Godric, and Flamel that you do _not_ want to be sassing me right now."  
A grin spread across Sirius' face. "On the contrary. If I wait for you to be in a better mood, it won't be nearly as much fun."  
Marlene rolled her eyes and stepped to the side to walk along the thick patches of grass. "Black, conversing with you is _never_ any fun at all."  
All around Sirius, his friends scoffed and gasped. "Poppycock!" exclaimed James loudly. Next to Marlene Lily turned her head, raising a sceptical eyebrow at the spectacled boy. "Really, Potter? Poppycock? Who even says that anymore?"  
"I'm brining it back," grinned the Quidditch captain.  
"You're wasting your time," said Marlene. "No one will be saying it. They'll just make fun of you for saying 'cock'."  
Sirius immediately burst into a barking laugh, and even James couldn't suppress a chuckle. "She said cock," grinned Peter.  
Marlene, however, was not laughing. "Just go away, will you? I'm not in the mood for your lot's immaturity."  
"Mighty McKinnon all upset over a Herbology lesson?" asked Sirius.  
"It's the easiest class!" laughed James.  
"Outside of Divination," said Peter. "You get to just make stuff up for that one."

You didn't have to be a close friend of Marlene's to know that Peter had just struck a low blow to the blonde. It was fairly well known through their year (and their house) that Marlene had detested Divination. She had detested it, because she was utterly abysmal at it. She'd given it up in the middle of fourth year, but not without many students seeing her try to force her way through the class. More than one had witnessed her tears and tantrums because of the class, and even worse, because of Professor Nova.

"If you can't even get by in Herbology and Divination, you might as well accept status as a Squib," lamented Sirius.  
Marlene began turning a bright pink and upon spotting this, Lily turned, glaring sharply at the boys behind them. "Sod off already, won't you?"  
"We're not harming anything," said James.  
"You're being incredibly annoying and rude. Leave."  
"Who's going to make us?"  
"Hullo!"

A number of groans went through the two groups as Sarah bounced over from the Ravenclaw group she had been walking with until just then. In the past, she had never really been an active participant when the boys had begun picking on someone. Neither had she really been outspoken against the boys in those times. Until only a few months prior, she had always taken what she had called the "Remus Lupin road". She would stand back, maybe participating a little, and then reel the boys in when it looked like things were going too far. Usually.

"Why Zach, you shock us," said Sirius.  
The girl offered a sardonic smile. "I bet."  
"Couldn't resist a round of fun?" asked James.  
"Quite. Leave them alone."  
"We're not doing anything!"  
"I could hear you from over there," she said, gesturing back several meters where her friends were making their way up the slippery hill. "You're being complete pricks, _as usual_."  
Sirius couldn't hide the grin that longed to grace his face. "And you're going to make us stop?"  
The brunette withdrew her wand. "If I have to."  
Lily took a step closer to her friend, pushing at Sarah's wand arm. "Put that away!"  
"All they understand is violence."  
"So you want to lower yourself to their level?" asked the redhead.  
Marlene shook her head. "They're not worth it, Zach."  
Overruled, and outnumbered, the girl slid her wand back into the pocket of her robes. James' grin only widened. "Someone's going soft."

But if he thought she was acquiescing, he was mistaken. But that's probably rather obvious, this narrator supposes. Either way, a step later, they were right on the edge of what can only be described as a mud-pit. Temporarily setting her feet, Sarah threw her weight into James. In doing so, she lost what ground she had and tumbled right on top of him. As he went down, he grabbed for Sirius, who, in an effort to not be dragged down, fell into Marlene, sending them both to the ground as well.

The bag that Marlene hadn't cared to close fell from her shoulder and contents spilled out onto the ground. Adding insult to injury, a gust of wind blew through, sending some of Marlene's parchment back down the hill and back to the greenhouses. Lily cursed and took off after it, nearly losing her own footing a few times as she scrambled after her friend's things. Back at the scene of the incident, Marlene was picking herself up and cursing even more.

"Damn it, Zachary! What the fuck?" she demanded.  
The other girl, however, was not one for quick apologies. "It's not like I intended you to get caught up in that," she snapped.  
"You have to _think_! You don't think!"  
"If you'd just learn to stand up for yourself, this never would have happened!"  
"Don't you put the blame on me!"  
"Yeah, Zach, that's really unfair," said James.  
Marlene whirled about, glaring dangerously at the boys. "_You_ shut up! This is as much your fault!"  
"Mine?" he asked. "I was the one getting tackled!"  
The blonde shoved his shoulder. "You were the one goading everyone and just _looking_ for a fight!"  
"Why I never…"

Lily had just stomped back onto the scene and was forcing herself into the middle of everyone. "ENOUGH!" she shouted. Both Sirius and Sarah opened their mouths to protest, but Lily held her hands out at her sides, crumpled and damp parchment in both. "No! Everyone stops talking RIGHT NOW! Potter, Black, this is as much your fault as anyone else's. Get out before I dock points. Sarah, that was uncalled for – five points from Gryffindor for assaulting another student and if you so much as open your mouth I'm making it twenty! Marlene, you could have ignored them. Now, everyone GET. TO. THE. CASTLE."

Despite the grumblings, the remaining students took the prefect's advice and began a silent trek up to the large castle. Marlene was trying unsuccessfully to straighten and clean the parchment in her hands. Without looking anywhere but dead ahead, Sarah silently held out a hand towards the blonde. There was a pause, but in time, Marlene handed the parchment to the other girl who immediately pulled out her wand and began magically cleaning the parchment. One side done, she flipped them over. But she halted.

"Mar –"  
"I said _quiet_," snapped Lily.

Wordlessly, Sarah shoved the parchment in the prefect's face, and as soon as she was free of it, split off from the group, working to catch up with the people with whom she had previously been walking. Lily, meanwhile, was staring blankly at the parchment in her hands. There was no image, just words.

**"COME SUPPORT TRADITION. LEARN HOW TO ENSURE THE FUTURE OF THE WIZARDING WORLD. ONLY YOU CAN STOP THE IMPURE FROM BRINGING US DOWN!"**

"Lily?" asked Marlene, moving closer to the redhead. "What the…?" she asked, grabbing for the parchment from Lily's grasp.  
"We have to take this to McGonagall," the redhead said.  
"What's the rush, Red?" called Sirius after the pair of girls.

But neither of them turned to answer the boys. They slipped a few times on the sodden ground, but made it to the castle and immediately took off for the Deputy Headmistress' office. Other classes had let out as well, and more than one student stared at the mud on Marlene and at the blush on Lily's face. Neither one particularly cared about that at the moment. Instead, the parchment, its meaning, and the way it fit with the events detailed in the newspaper that morning weighed on the minds of the two girls. Any other day, the two of them might have been mortified by their state and by the stares of the other students. But that day, they couldn't possibly have cared any less.

The two of them stormed into McGonagall's office, making the witch's eyes widen with surprise behind her spectacles.

"Good heavens, what is the meaning of this?"  
"We found this out on the grounds, Professor," said Lily, handing the parchment over to the Deputy Headmistress and their Head of House. The aging woman took it from them and gave it a quick glance. If she was shocked or angered by it, she didn't betray that at all. She stayed calm, though when she spoke, her voice was wavering ever so slightly. Marlene might not have noticed it, but Lily couldn't help _but_ notice it.  
"Well, you were quite right to bring it. I'll take this to Professor Dumbledore right away. Go get cleaned up, the both of you, immediately, especially you Miss McKinnon. I won't ask what happened to get you so filthy, but I would recommend that you not let it occur again."

The two girls both muttered a quick "yes Professor McGonagall" and then turned to walk out of the office and back into the craze that was the castle hallway. They hadn't even been in counsel with the middle-aged witch for a full minute. They Marlene had just stepped into the chaos and Lily was right behind her when McGonagall's voice rang out sharp and loud.

"Just _where_ on the grounds did you find this?"  
A crease formed on Lily's brow. She wasn't sure why that was so important. But McGonagall probably just wanted as much information as possible. "By the greenhouses."

The older witch nodded. The nod was curt, but said multiple things. It was thanking the girls for brining the flier to her attention. It was thanking them for the additional information. Mostly, it was telling them that they were done and the girls could leave, which they did right then and there.

"Remind me to absolutely _murder_ Zach later," said Marlene as the two girls ran up one of the multitude of staircases to get to the Gryffindor common room.  
"As a prefect, I'm supposed to discourage that sort of violence."  
"What if I take care of Potter along with her?" asked the blonde.  
Lily paused. "Tempting. But still wrong."  
"Worth a shot."

* * *

**_A/N:_**_ Well golly! Okay, I'm not really sure what else to say, given the long A/N at the beginning. Reviews are deeply loved, whether they're compliments or (constructive) criticisms!_


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